


Of All The Brightest Stars

by ChiakiKookie (orphan_account)



Category: EXO (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Abuse, Age Play, Age Play Little Jeon Jungkook, Anorexia, Anorexic Park Jimin, Blowjobs, Chanyeol is evil, Cruelty, Depressed Min Yoongi | Suga, Drowning, Drug Addiction, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventually becomes oppa, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone Needs A Hug, Flashbacks, Heavy Angst, Hurt Kim Taehyung | V, Innocent Jeon Jungkook, Jungkook has trauma, Jungkook likes pretty things, Kim Seokjin | Jin Is a Good Hyung, Kim Taehyung | V Needs a Hug, Kim Taehyung | V-centric, Kinda, M/M, Master/Pet, Multi, Non consented, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Overdosing, Physical Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sad Kim Namjoon | RM, Self-Harm, Sex in Littlespace, Sexual Abuse, Smoking, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Starvation, Suicide Attempt, Taehyung doesn't deserve this, Taehyung is mistreated, Trauma, a lot of abuse, bad habits, baekhyun is mentioned, he deserves all the love, im so evil, implied - Freeform, jin deserves an award, kinda Stockholm Syndrome, like once, probably, read the tags, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-04-25 23:39:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14389530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ChiakiKookie
Summary: "I tried everything. I smoked, drank, drove 100 on the freeway. Anything to make my heart feel like it did when it beat next to yours."Everything was perfect. Bangtan's fame was at its peak, things couldn't be better.But then Taehyung is taken, kidnapped, and the rest of the members find themselves slipping into old, dangerous habits, trying to find him.Seven of the most beautiful stars were fading, and all the world could do was stand and watch.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The whole story contains content which could be triggering, if you are likely to be triggered by abuse, self harm, depression, suicidal thoughts, etc, I advice that you don't read this story.  
> Please enjoy!! 
> 
> (And just in case no one told you today, you are valid and perfect, and make this world a better place <3)

"Wait … You knew him? Personally?"  
"I knew all of them." He murmured. "At least I thought I did. Once. A long time ago."  
"What were they like?"  
Some crumpled copy of a smile crossed his face.  
"They were going to change the world.  
And the world around them burned."

Yoongi turned the TV off, taking a deep breath to steady himself, turning around and seeing Jungkook curled on the sofa, his eyes glassy, wide.  
"Why would he say that?" Jungkook whispered.  
Yoongi squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head.  
"Jungkook -"  
"Why would Baekhyun hyung say that, hyung?"

He decided to lie because it comforted him and if he lied with enough conviction then he could almost kid himself that everything was okay, he was desperate enough to believe his own lies because he wanted everything to be okay - he wanted to be young, to be naive, he didn't want to understand the situation, he didn't want to know what Baekhyun had meant. He didn't want to acknowledge that their world was really burning to the ground like one of their songs. Like something ethereal.  
Like something out of a fairytale.  
So he lied.  
"I don't know, Jungkook." Yoongi said softly, quietly, carefully, ensuring that his voice didn't crack or wobble, ensuring that his words sounded valid. He felt tears burn behind his eyes and turned away immediately, inhaling sharply, the lie still bitter on his tongue. Yes, he had lied to Jungkook, but he was mainly lying to himself.  
You only lie when you're afraid.  
\-----  
He had been so much different at the start.  
He had been slim and delicate with light blonde almost white hair, wavy over his eyes, his skin light in the winter, porcelain, flawless, honeyed in summer, complex, enthralling, his lips rosebud, his frame narrow and skinny in all the right places, making him seem vulnerable, innocent and young. He looked doll like, unreal, soft and harmless - or he would have if it wasn't for his eyes.  
It was those deep onyx coloured eyes which spoke so much bitterness, which described pain, raw and anguished, it was those eyes which told the man that this boy had a killer instinct rooted within him, despite his softness, his innocence. It was so ideal.  
He had wanted him.  
The man hand wanted him right from the start as he walked with six other pretty boys - his features stuck out, his smile, his eyes, the lack of awareness of the world surrounding him and the man had never wanted anyone more.  
He wanted to take this boy and hurt him. He wanted to destroy him, to hear him scream in pain, tears in his deep eyes, on the floor, begging to be released.  
He wanted to hear him beg for mercy. He wanted to see his blood. He wanted to see the light leave his eyes while he was still alive he wanted to hear his yells subdue, he wanted to watch as he was slowly shattered, irreparable, he wanted to witness his begs for help and mercy turn into pleads for death.  
But he wouldn't kill him.  
What was the fun in that? No. Just as he lost his will to live, the man would teach him how to survive. He would burn him down just to watch him struggle to stand back up again.  
He would mold him into a creature with no remorse, someone who acted on impulse rather than intuition, someone who didn't care about the consequences of his actions as long as he was the last man standing.  
He was going to teach him to be beautiful in a dangerous way, teach him how to kill, teach him that survival was the only success.  
He was going to make a monster out of him.  
He would take Kim Taehyung and sculpt him into his finest masterpiece.  
He'd even give it a name.  
V. For Victory.

The man turned around, licking his lips turning to the boy who was strapped to the chair, a blindfold on his eyes, his arms behind him, his breaths quick, harsh and ragged.  
Kim Taehyung. Taehyung.  
He was an idol, perfection to the very core. Perfect, pure body, free of intoxications, blemishes of marks.  
The man moved towards a table of needles and picks one up, full of liquid, slightly heavy. He moved towards Taehyung softly. Tae tilted his head listening to the footsteps, his body tensing on instinct as the man got close.  
"Now let's not play it like that, Taehyungie." The man cooed mockingly. "After all, you're playing by my rules now." He put a light hand on Tae's shoulder. He could feel the structure of his bones through the light cotton shirt he wore, he could feel the goosebumps on his skin as he shivered in terror. The man leaned down.  
"If I make it quick can you pretend that it never happened?" He whispered.  
Tae breathed out, jagged. He didn't even answer before the man plunged the needle into the vein in his neck, pushing the plunger down, the vein bulging as liquid filled it.  
Tae gasped, his body spasming slightly as the needle was retracted. He moaned softly in pain - but the man knew that the sensation was more numbing than anything else.  
Poor innocent, sweet Taehyung thinking he had it easy with physical torture that was painless. How humorous.  
No the torture was mental. Taehyung's perfect idol body was already facing cracks in the facade.  
Yes. The torture was all mental.  
Why?  
Because opium was addictive.

The man put the needle down, a small smile on his face before fiddling with the tape which bound the boys hands together, and then the ones on his ankles.  
Then the gag.  
And then the mask over his eyes.  
The man didn't want Tae to hate him as he should. He would put him in a room. Give him food, a place to sleep.  
Injections in the morning.  
Mind games at noon.  
If he was a good boy then the man wouldn't hurt him much in the evening.  
If he wasn't well … then it was pop goes the idol.  
The man let Tae adjust for a moment before turning around and facing him.  
Ah, the confusion was so profound in his eyes. Too profound.  
It wasn't safe to keep your heart on your sleeve like that because people see things that they like and take it for advantage. They see your weaknesses and play them to their strengths, they leave you abused and misused and they don't care.  
Humans were like that.  
They saw something beautiful and destroyed it.  
The man sniggered to himself.  
He would teach Taehyung how to play like the victim. He would teach him the art of destruction. How to use his own weaknesses as a strength. But for now he just moved forwards towards the staring boy, enthralled and ready. He was ready to play this game. He was ready to create the deadliest piece on the board, ready to mold it.  
This would be special. He wasn't going to mold Tae into stone - stone was weak, breakable. Nor would he mold him into a diamond. True, a diamond was beautiful and strong and attractive - but it wasn't destructive or deadly. It was exciting to look at but not much else.  
No, Tae would be molded like titanium. Powerful, deadly and beautiful - someone who was more dangerous than the villain.  
"Who are you?" Tae's eyes were wide, his voice deep with a thick daegu accent.  
The man crouched down.  
"I." He said softly. "Am Chanyeol. But the world calls me a monster." He narrowed his eyes. "I was born with an insatiable appetite for destruction. You are going to come with me. Do as I tell you. You will listen to me. Obey me. I am your master."  
His eyes went wider and his breaths quivered in his throat. His back went straight, his shoulders wide, sitting on the edge of the chair, head tilted, poised like a predator listening for prey. For a fleeting moment he looked dangerous, like he could spit fire, merciless, like a wolf.  
"What if I say no?" He whispered, pale.  
Chanyeol frowned. Why would he say no? This was his opportunity to get back at everyone who had hurt him, to become powerful, to become more than just a singer on a stage, or a dancer under the spotlight. He would be taught to sing the songs of murder, of survival, learn to dance on the battlefield.  
"You won't say no." He said, his eyes narrowing. "Because if you do then you and your friends are dead.  
Game over."  
Tae sunk back, tears collecting in his eyes.  
What had he done to deserve this?  
Chanyeol watched satisfied, knowing well that he had won the argument. He leaned forwards.  
"Tell me Pet." He whispered. "Do you want to punish all those who have wronged you?"  
\------------  
"Jungkookie, food."  
Jungkook looked up at Seokjin who was stood in the doorway. The circles around his eyes were pronounced and dark and he looked exhausted, physically and mentally. Jungkook looked down at his fingers, biting his lip.  
"I'm not hungry, hyung." His voice was small, soft. Vulnerable. "Please. I really can't eat."  
Seokjin felt a small part inside of him break. As the eldest he felt it his responsibility to take care of everyone, to make sure that everyone was okay. It was up to him to ensure that they were all safe, but he had already failed as the eldest hyung and all he was trying to do now was to keep everyone together whilst trying to fix everything.  
He was trying to fix everyone and getting cut on their pieces in the process.  
Seokjn looked at Jungkook desperately.  
"Jungkook." His voice shook. "A bite. A bite won't hurt, you haven't eaten in days."  
"He might not have either."  
And that's what completely destroyed him.  
Seokjn backed out of the room, almost dazed, feeling a pang of pain in his chest, as if his lungs were on fire, he felt his heart thudding against his chest, loud in his ears as though it was trying to break free.  
He moved towards the main room. Only Hoseok sat there as everyone else are solemnly in the kitchen. He looked up when he entered with a small, sad frown.  
"Hyung." His voice was careful, emotionless and flat. "Are you okay? What happened?"  
"I … " Seokjin thought about it for a second before speaking. Was he really about to share all his problems with Hobi whilst he sat in front of him in pieces on the floor, as if he was a trashcan where Seokjin should dump all his worries? Besides, Hobi didn't need to know Jin's worries. They were his own responsibility. He shouldn't burden his dongsaengs, as the hyung.  
He was supposed to reassure them. Make them feel secure. It wasn't supposed to be the other way round.  
Right?  
He tried to smile.  
"Just … just the usual, Hoseok - ah." He put a hand on his shoulders. "Aren't you going to eat?"  
"In a minute." He eyed Seokjin wearily. "Hyung. If something was bothering you … you would tell someone wouldn't you? Even if it isn't me or Jiminie Kookie. You would tell someone, right? Like Yoongi hyung or Namjoon or PD nim, or someone at least?"  
He took Jin's hand desperately. "Right hyung?"  
Seokjin felt his mouth go dry.  
"Of course Hoseok - ah. Now go eat before the food gets cold."  
"Aren't you coming?"  
"No, I …. " He shrugged. "I don't feel hungry right now."  
"He might not have either."  
As hyung, he had to ensure that his dongsaengs never endured any pain which he didn't endure.  
He felt a tear slide down his cheek.  
"Don't worry, Taehyung - ah." He said softly. "We will find you. I swear on my life. I swear on Bangtan."  
\---------  
Taehyung inhaled deeply.  
Exhaled deeper.  
He felt a strange numbness within his veins, and the point were the needle had entered throbbed painfully.  
What the hell had been in that syringe?  
Why the hell was he here?!  
He inhaled again, but this time he felt tears prick in his eyes.  
"Do you want to punish all those who have wronged you?"  
He exhaled sharply.  
Who had wronged him? He didn't understand.  
He was living his dream. He was content … wasn't he?  
But are you? A small voice in his head chided. Just think about it carefully. Did Bangtan ever even want you? Yes, you debuted with them … but you never appeared in any group logs. Your logs were never posted, your feelings were never considered. You were left in the dark in a world were you don't belong. They treated you like you were nothing. Don't you think they should feel how it feels to suffer like that? Shouldn't they ensure that pain too, the pain of being absolutely worthless, a piece of dirt in the trashcan?  
Taehyung looked up at the man who had introduced himself as Chanyeol, wearily eyeing the mask hiding his face, making his decision.  
"Yes." He measured carefully. "I would very much like to punish all those who have wronged me."  
The man grinned.  
Oh how easily this little boy was swayed.  
Manipulating him had been too easy.  
\--------------  
The manager felt pain when he looked at the six boys whom he cared for so much.

Namjoon, as the leader had a strong facade on as always. He spoke words of logic with small smiles and wide, sad eyes, and the manager picked up on how his eyes would linger a little too long on the door as if he were waiting for a seventh boy to walk through, how he bit his lip hard every time emotion flickered across his face and how he acted like he was fine even though be was obviously not.

Hoseok rarely smiled. He ate on his own, slept on his own and went out on his own. He spent a long time on his phone, flicking through nonsense, spent a long time watching the TV, his eyes glassy, unseeing, in his own little world - even when the screen went off he continued to stare, his resting face sad, his manner resigned.

Yoongi fared badly. He had never been one to express his emotions well, but now, more often than not he was seen in the corner of a room, totally zoned out, unable to sleep at night, eyes puffy in the morning, completely detached and indifferent to his surroundings. In the middle of the night when he thought everyone was asleep, his sobs resounded in the room like a cry for help.

Jungkook was completely unhooked from reality. His food intake was minimal and more often than not he would wake up screaming, his arm limp over the cold covers. He had grown so used to having him beside him that he hadn't even realised that perhaps the other boy made him feel safe too.  
The maknae had grown up, seeing the reality for what it was. His voice shook when he sang and his eyes shone with the pain of a fighter in a war. He wasn't okay and maybe he never would be again.

Jimin was dying and everyone could see it. Absently his fingers would skim over the necklace around his neck, but rather than comforting him it felt foreign, like a noose. It told him that his promises meant nothing now. It meant that he had failed him.  
And then everything had spiralled out of control and he wasn't sure how it had happened but he was back in that vicious cycle again with no way to escape, perfecting his dancing, his singing, going over the same step for hours obsessively. He had begun to starve himself again as a coping method. Things were falling to pieces at his fingertips and he was watching them break at his feet, knowing he could do nothing to prevent it.

Seokjin was, by far, the worst.  
As hyung, he considered it his responsibility to take care of his dongsaengs. Even if that meant that he himself was not okay.  
He noticed Namjoon's lingering eyes and hesitant acceptance, he sat with Hoseok when be had pills in his hands, face pale, full of pain, murmuring reassurances into his ear, promises of a better life, coaxing will to live into him. He stood in the doorway sadly when Jimin hissed profanities to himself, his face when he stepped on the scale, how his whole body tensed when his fingers skimmed over his promise necklace, how Jimin was slipping back into his old habits.  
He hugged Jungkook at night when he screamed for the absent boy, he stayed up all night just to comfort him, to soothe him back to sleep, to smile at him when he slipped into dazed and stared at nothing, his expression wistful, vacant.  
He felt his heart break when he heard Yoongi's muffled sobs at night, how his body shook with pure pain, he stood by as Yoongi, who was the strongest, coldest and the most unbreakable of them all shattered into pieces. He held him at night as he cried into his shoulders, he noticed the lingering smell of nicotine on him, the lighter in his hand all the time, the flicker of the flames on, off, on off, like a pattern, and Seokjn acted as though he didn't need anyone, how he was strong enough on his own, but the manager could see in his eyes how desperate he was to keep everything together, and how much it was hurting him because he couldn't to that.

The managers watched six of his brightest stars dim in search for the lost one, and maybe it was wishful thinking that Kim Taehyung would be found quickly, unhurt and unchanged. He knew deep down that there were too many stars in the sky to prioritise one, because even though, up close they are all unique, from a distance they all look the same.  
\-------------  
Tae found himself alone in a square room, six foot by six foot. The walls and floor and ceiling were padded as though he was a criminal in timeout, but Chanyeol had reassured him that this was only temporary. They had to assess him before they turned him and into a weapon.  
He touched the necklace around his throat unconsciously.  
Did he really want to hurt them? Bangtan, his family, his friends, the only thing he had after his abusive father and the situation at home - Bangtan who had accepted him for who he was, taken him in and treated him with love, as though he really belonged, why would he want to hurt them?  
They were there for him when he had nothing.

But they made you feel like nothing too. They voice in his head creeped in again. They excluded you. Treated you like you were less than them. They didn't care about you. They didn't love you. They loved your voice and your handsome face. Not you.

He closed his eyes, leaning against one of the walls.

Just wait and see. The voice continued. They don't give a damn about you. Give them a month. Three months. A year. They won't come for you. They won't try to find you. You're insignificant. The grey area. It's good for them if you're there but if you're not … it doesn't really affect them. Trust me. They won't come. Why? Because a single star going out doesn't affect the way the solar system works..

Taehyung pulled on the necklace, feeling it dig into his skin.  
"Prove them wrong." He said softly. "Please Jiminie. I trust you. I trust you."  
Chanyeol shook his head tutting, watching from the cameras.  
"Mistake number 1." He said to himself. He leaned forward, pressing the button on the speaker, watching Tae's face contort as he spoke into it.  
"Oh, Taehyungie. Pet." He said. "If you think that your friends will save you, you have another thing coming to you. But if you want to be the hero then I'm fine with being the villain … for now." He sighed mockingly into the receiver. "Listen Pet. You doubt me. That is not okay. I think you need to be taught not to doubt your master. Don't you agree?"  
Tae's eyes widened in terror.  
Two men walked into the room and tied his hands together with a rope, attaching them to his knees where it was also tied.  
"Taehyung." Chanyeol's voice was hard. "You can obey me and this can be easy for you. I will make this easy. I will tell them to shorten the punishment time. I do not wish to hurt you. That is not my aim." He paused for a moment.  
"Or, of course, you can disobey me, and its shame on you. This is the first time you have doubted me and my intentions. Had thoughts of escaping. If you cooperate I will be lenient. If you don't, then I'm afraid we will have to start … cutting parts away to ensure that you don't repeat your words nor your actions. Understand?"  
Taehyung stopped struggling and nodded, unable to breathe. Chanyeol made a sound of agreement through the speaker.  
"Good. I've always known that you would be a good boy, but everyone else doubted you. Thought you would cause trouble. But you aren't going to cause any trouble, are you?"  
Tae shook his head, agreeing immediately, his blood hot in his ears.  
"Good. I don't want to be your enemy Pet. I hope that maybe we can even be friends."  
"But first I need to make you suffer."  
The men dragged Tae out of the room and he didn't fight against them. He had chosen this. Now he would have to deal with his choice.  
The men led him to a larger room, and when peeking into the contents of the room, he stalled in his tracks.  
It was mainly empty apart from the cameras, speakers and a huge glass container of water with a chain hanging above it.  
No. He thought to himself. No. This was not how it was supposed to go. It was falling to pieces so quickly.  
"Taehyung." The speakers crackled with life. "Taehyung. Please do not make this difficult for yourself."  
Tae felt his breaths die in his throat. God, no. This wasn't happening.  
"Please." Taehyung choked. "Please … don't … "  
"I'm afraid I have to go through with this, Taehyungie." Chanyeol said, not sounding the slightest bit swayed. "We already agreed. But you're being really cooperative. I want this to be easy for you. Try not to imagine the pain before its delivered. You should know that imagining pain before it's delivered only intensifies it."  
Tae squeezed his eyes shut as tears collected beneath his lids. How was he meant to not think of the pain?  
Think of something else. He told himself, opening his eyes, his pupils dilated, searching wildly for something to fixate his gaze on.  
Cameras.  
If he tried hard enough, he could almost convince himself that he was with the rest of Bangtan. That they were about to shoot a video, playing a game. He imagined Jimin, small and comforting besides him, his bright eyes and wide smiles, his adorable laugh and how Taehyung had to hold onto him so that that he didn't fall over when he laughed too hard. He imagined Kookie, his subtle touches and soft voice, how Jungkook would pinch him lightly when he was too deep in thought, how they intertwined their fingers together, how it made him feel safe.  
"Chain him up please."  
Tae almost didn't feel the chains being attached to him, so mesmerised by his thoughts.  
These had been little things which he had taken for granted until they had been taken away from him.  
"Step onto the platform." One of the men spoke, his voice raspy from a filter.  
Taehyung did as he was told.  
Slowly, the chains began to lift him from the floor upside down until he was hanging, suspended in the air, over the container of water.  
Tae's eyes widened and he struggled for a second before giving up.  
If he fell, be would fall right into the water.  
If he fell, it would be worse for him.  
But what were they going to do to him? Would they drown him?  
"Taehyung, you may be wondering what is about to happen to you right now. I will tell you." There was a small pause. "You are suspended over boiling hot water, upside down with metal chains binding your wrists to your legs. You are in a very tricky situation. You doubted me, put your trust in your friend over me. That warrants 48 hours over the water. But I am kind. And you were good, so I have shortened it to only 24 hours. I understand that you must be exhausted and hungry, but you must stare at the black spot on the wall in front of you. If you begin falling asleep, you will get dunked into the water for 120 seconds. If you make a noise, an electric shock will go through the chains. If you lose consciousness or resist at any point, both punishments will be inflicted at once. Do you understand? Say yes or no. Address me as master."  
"Yes master." Tae whispered.  
"Good boy, Pet." Chanyeol sounded satisfied. "Okay Taehyungie. Your times starts now."  
Taehyung fixed his gaze on the black spot.  
He wanted to die.  
\------------  
Rule Number 1:  
Do not show weaknesses, as far as anyone knows, you are emotionless.  
This has been the most effective bullet of pain ever used.  
\-----------  
He was strong. He was strong. He was strong.  
He looked into the mirror muttering under his breath.  
"It's okay." He told himself. "It'll be okay. You're okay. Things can't get any worse."  
He played with the lighter in his hand, watching the flame ignite and go out.  
He just felt really sad all the time now, really empty and vacant. He wasn't 'here' anymore and he wasn't sure where he went and he wishes that he could just go to a place where no one knew his name, where there weren't screaming fans and hours on end of sad eyes and fake smiles for the camera and society's cruel view of perfection, and how they were all breaking inside but none of them had the courage to speak to another about it, so they all suffered in silence, and if the lights were low they'd never see him cry.  
He should've known that just when things were getting good it'd all be knocked down.

He rolled a cigarette between his fingers contemplating for a moment before putting it between his lips and lighting it. Maybe if inhaled enough then he wouldn't need to feel guilty for wanting to fade out of existence.  
He sighed softly, running his fingers through his mint coloured hair. He'd been gone all day.

Was it too selfish of him to ask whether anyone had thought of him, even once?

He shook his head, stubbing out the cigarette and throwing it outside before moving to his studio and clicking his computer open to make a log. It had been a long time since he'd made one and he'd almost forgotten that he'd even started one. His last log had been a little after debut and he felt his heart leap when he saw his face. Why did they taboo his name like that? "He, him, his," why was saying his name such an unthinkable act? Why were they already detaching themselves?  
It didn't matter. He had to be okay. He was the strong one. He couldn't let the others see the cracks in his facade.  
He clicked the record button, staring into the camera lens, his eyes wide, skin pale, hair messy.  
"Hello." His voice was quiet, cracking slightly from misuse. He took a breath. "Where do I start? Everything is falling to pieces. I don't know where to begin." He looked down at his long pale fingers, taking deep breaths.  
"Do you know that feeling where you just wanted to say " I don't know what to do" over and over again? Because you literally don't have any idea of what to do anymore and you feel like your trapped in this big black void of mess you can't seem to get out of, no matter how hard you try to run?  
I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do anymore, everything just hurts so much and I feel so alone."  
Another deep breath.  
"I know that I come across as strong. I was taught from a young age how to be stone cold and self reliant, to hold myself high and poised, with a ready smile and a subtle changes, ready to conquer the world. So I learned from early on only to cry behind closed doors, in dim lights, without sound, to howl in pain silently, to break down without anyone knowing and to never ask for help.  
Because when no one sees you suffering, do you really suffer? Much like when a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound? I can always pretend that whatever pains me never happened, and I can always go back, facing the world, pretending I'm okay.  
That's all for now - Min Yoongi's log."  
\-----------  
He was struggling to keep conscious as all the blood rushed to his head, lacking oxygen, gasping for breaths.  
He could feel his body spasming involuntarily, his thoughts dizzying, his vision twisting like a kaleidoscope. Who had said there was only one black spot on the opposite wall? He could see an array of them, all twisting into each other, leaping across the white, trying to break free.  
His head felt heavy, bloated, and his eyes kept rolling back, threatening to pass out.  
But no. No, he couldn't pass out. Not now.  
He felt hot tears in his eyes but he bit them down stubbornly. He wasn't going to give any time of satisfaction to those viewing. He wasn't going to let them break him.  
He took another shuddering breath, his head lolling back.  
"Taehyung."  
He could hardly hear him over the pounding in his ears, over the sound of his own ragged breathing.  
"Taehyung."  
Was it that he was dying? He could hear the chiming of bells - or was it just the clicking of the chains against each other?  
He was too young to feel like he was running out of time, wasn't he?  
"Pet. Answer me."  
He gasped, head light, bright spots dancing in front of his eyes, a white light - and was it really going to be that easy? Was death going to be kind to him, merciful, was this his way out?  
"Okay. Send the shots please."  
It was strange to explain. It was like one second he had been floating in and our of consciousness and the next moment he felt heat coarse through his veins as though he was on fire. His eyes shot open, his breaths catching in his throat, and for the first time he showed signs of life, of existence. He gasped in pure pain and then suddenly he was screaming, loud, anguished screams and he writhed in his prison, his mouth crying out pleas for mercy but no, the devil was not merciful.  
He was lowered into the water as he writhed and screamed and begged and now it felt as though he was burning, choking, and god, he thought, please just kill me.  
Just when he'd given up he was pulled from the water, his face raw, the electricity dancing back down, and he breathed deeply.  
"Relieved?" The speakers taunted.  
Tae didn't answer. No, he was not relieved. He was still alive, hanging from a chain as though he was a criminal in execution.  
A tear fell from his eye, mingling with the boiling water below him.  
Chanyeol watched, anticipating.  
Tae's posture had already changed. It was slumped, resigned. His eyes had dulled slightly.  
He was breaking so quickly. Chanyeol frowned.  
No this wasn't how it was supposed to go. His toys were not allowed to break before he played with them.  
He checked his watch. It had only been a little more than 15 hours.  
He sighed deeply and leaned forward into the speaker.  
"I think that is sufficient for now." He spoke softly. "Please untie him. I will come down to speak with him shortly."

A small sob left his lips when he heard it.  
All he could hear was the sound of everything shattering into pieces.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains content that may be triggering.

He stumbled over his own feet as the dance slowed and he just stared at himself in the mirror, expressionless, eyes wide, body tired. He walked over to the benches and pulled out the weighing scales from beneath them and weighed himself, unflinching, silent, breaths even. He stepped off them and pushed them back, emotionless.  
He moved back to the mirror and smiled slightly.  
He was destroying himself but he was too tired to care, and he was pretty pleased with the person who he was pretending to be.  
He stared in the mirror.  
He hate, hate, *hated* being himself. He was sick of himself.  
When did this stop?  
Oh god, he wanted to run away and never look back, things were getting bad again.  
He hated this place.  
He looked down at his fingers, curling them into fists. He wanted to forget.  
Forget?  
He doesn't forget.  
He doesn't forget the ghosts in his lungs or the skeletons in the closets.  
He doesn't forget as he wakes up to screams of others, and he never forgets as he falls to his bloody knees, finished to the bone.  
Forget? He never forgets.  
He was empty and he was full, always and never simultaneously, he was greedy in his self loathing and gleeful in his bliss.  
He scratched until he bled and the he scratched some more, because it hurt until it didn't.  
He needed a hug, but all he was given was a box of matches and a knife; the system wasn't flawed it was built this way.  
He swayed on his feet slightly, unsteady, exhausted.  
"Jiminie?"  
The voice was so soft, so quiet, careful, sad. He couldn't bare it.  
"Hyung?"  
His head whipped up, without looking at the door. It wasn't him, he knew it, but he saw him in everything and everyone and it was really quite toxic how much he missed him, because he was always there before but he took it for advantage until he was gone and now he really needed him, to talk to him, he was the only one who could understand but it was too late.  
He hardly reacted, though. The things which used to make him cry now just made his hands shake and his eyes go blank.  
Be turned around and saw Jungkook by the door, his eyes red and puffy, his face pale, cheeks red, eyes sad.  
"Jiminie hyung. It's time to go now."  
He held out his hand and, with a little hesitation, Jimin moved forwards and took it, their fingers intertwined.  
He felt so sad right now, his feelings were so confused and nothing was okay.

In the dorms everything was a mess. There was no order, there was no routine. They ate randomly, they slept randomly and everything was as vague as their feelings. It had become an unspoken rule to stay in pairs - pairs that weren't permanent. They were closer to each other than ever before - but they were also much more distant, silent and on edge, everyone battling with their own problems, descending into habits which they had tried hard to get rid of, destroying themselves inside out and destroying each other by keeping quiet.  
Jimin entered the dorm with Jungkook and the other members were already in the living room, the TV on, watching a movie, sat close with a blanket thrown over themselves.  
They seemed engrossed at first glance, but looking closer, they just looked like four boys battling with the demons inside their heads.  
Hoseok eyes were wide and glassy, his lips moving almost indistinguishably as he argued with himself indignantly.  
Namjoon sat with his head on Seokjin's shoulder, looking at his hands, his dimples deep, his mouth a hard line.  
Jin looked the most collected, the best actor, his brows furrowed watching the characters on the screen, his breathing even. But Jimin knew that he wasn't okay. He was just the best at hiding it, seeing it as his duty to be unharmed.  
Yoongi was blatantly in his own world. What was worse was that he smelled of cigarettes and blood and tears and pain that radiated of him in waves, and god, he just wasn't okay.  
And neither was Kookie. His hands shook permanently as he survived on coffee and drugs and the thought that suicide would hurt the others too much.  
With six members they felt empty. They felt broken, like a puzzle with a piece missing.  
Jungkook moved towards the couch which was full. He put a light hand on Yoongi's shoulder who snapped out of his daze, looking up at Jungkook who pulled him up, sitting down and pulling him onto his lap, throwing the blanket over his legs, leaning against Seokjin too. Jimin stood by the door watching, expressionless until Hobi called him, his voice flat.  
"Jimin. Come sit in my lap."  
Jimin did. Not because he longed comfort or touch, but because he didn't think he would be able to handle staring at the members as they self destructed themselves right in front of each others eyes, just because one of them had gone.  
He closed his eyes, exhausted, melting into Hoseok's touch as he held him tight as though he was convincing himself that this was real, that Jimin was real.  
Jimin frowned. Did he feel real? Did anything feel real anymore?

The movie came to an end and silence engulfed the room where they sat, leaning against one another to keep each other up, and just when it got to too much Namjoon stood up, running his fingers through his hair, looking at his fingers, avoiding eye contact with everyone.  
"I spoke with the manager today." He spoke quietly. "He'd spoken with the agency. They said we have to continue per usual. We have to attend tomorrow's fansign."  
Yoongi let out a small noise of sarcastic amusement, leaning into Jungkook's chest who tightened his arms around him instinctively.  
"Second. The manager has put us into pairs." Namjoon took out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and began reading from it flatly.  
"The two maknae's with the two hyungs. Jiminie with Yoongi hyung and Kookie with Jin hyung." He squinted. "Hoseok - ah. You're with me. The pairs need to stay together at all times"  
Hoseok nodded. Namjoon cleared his throat then, looking solemn.  
"Everybody, I know that things are difficult. It's been a few weeks with no progression. But we should be able to trust each other at least. If we are having problems we should be able to speak to each other about it. Taehyung - " His voice faltered as he spoke the name they had tabooed since he had gone missing. " - Taehyungie wouldn't want us to stop living because of this."  
Jimin stared forwards as though he wasn't paying attention.  
He just missed him.

\------

"I'm sorry that you was not truly loved and that made you cruel."  
Chanyeol watched Tae process this. He wanted to confuse him, to play with his mind, but Tae was slumped in his chair, face pale, unhealthy, eyes unfocused.  
How was it possible that he was breaking so soon? For the first few weeks he had been in and out of consciousness, and as soon as he was awake he had gone against Chanyeol's explicit rules and got the punishment which he deserved.  
Actually no. He deserved worse. Much worse. He had to know that what he had done was not okay and that it was not to be repeated.  
"Taehyung."  
His eyes snapped up, cold, hard, lethal. Chanyeol laughed.  
"Are you trying to be scary?" He asked, tilting his head mockingly. "How *cute*."  
His eyes were wide and full of pain and his hands shook, not from anger or fury, but from sadness, he curled his fingers into fists and Chanyeol noticed the small movement, lip curling.  
"Watch yourself little boy." His voice was little more than a whisper. "You're swimming in the deep end now."  
Tae gulped, shaking his head. "You can't hurt me." His voice was weak. "I don't care anymore."  
"What are you talking about." Chanyeol snapped, annoyed, stating it rather than asking. "I haven't done anything yet."  
Tae shook his head again, leaning back. "There's nothing do to hurt me that I haven't felt before." He said flatly. "I've been here before, felt this before. This isn't new to me. I can endure it."  
Chanyeol's eyes glinted. He knew all this already, and yet he acted indifferent. He put his hand into his pocket and pulled out some pictures, putting them onto the small table separating them, talking swiftly as he did so.  
"Is that so?" He began, putting down the first picture. It was of Seokjin, posing for a shoot, smiling slightly. Tae looked at it, holding his breath determined not to show any emotion.  
"Kim Seokjin." He said slowly. "Are you saying you could endure me strapping him up to a machine and sending powerful electric shocks into his body - enough to hurt him badly - but not to kill him? You wouldn't care about that?" He raised an eyebrow, putting down the next picture.  
"Min Yoongi." He laughed. "Truthfully, I don't really need to do anything here. Just lock him in a room with weapons in his reach and a month later he would be dead. Self destruction is one of his flaws is it not?" Tae gritted his teeth together, breathing deeply.  
"Kim Namjoon." He shrugged. "What do you say if I put a bullet to his head … I'll make it painless. I'll even record it so you don't need to watch it live. I wish I could understand the pain of losing a leader but unlike you I distance myself from attractions. Makes me much less vulnerable."  
The next picture went down.  
"Jung Hoseok. Sunshine Hobi. What do think of me cutting him ear to ear? So he can permanently smile for you, hm? Or even easier, hand him a bottle of pills. It'll save me from cleaning up a mess. He'll do all the work for me."  
And the next.  
"Park Jimin." It was a picture of Jimin, skinny, pale, eyes wide, cheeks hollow. "The anorexic dancer."  
Tae sucked in a deep breath.  
"What's this?" Chanyeol raised an eyebrow. "A reaction? How would you feel if I drowned him in a cage? Or no … I'm sure he wouldn't want to be a fat, bloated corpse, do you?"  
"Don't - "  
"The last." Chanyeol interrupted. "Having observed, is by far the strangest. *Jeon Jungkook*. The maknae. Isn't he handsome? I'm sure you agree ... "  
He put down another picture of him back hugging Jungkook tightly, laughing.  
"He's like your closest friend. Maybe more? … I don't know. But I'm not sure how handsome he would be if I poured a barrel of acid over his face."  
"Don't you dare." Tae's eyes were wide. "If you touch any of them I swear I will kill you. I will make it painful. I will paint the walls in your blood and wear your skin as a victory. I'm not afraid."  
Chanyeol felt something inside him laugh in contentment. How quickly the pretty little boy was turning into a crazy, twisted monster.  
But he just shrugged as though he didn't care in the slightest.  
"Point your gun at me if that's what will make you feel safe." He said. "Next time don't lie and tell me you can endure any pain. Because you can't and - " He leaned forwards. " - You should know that people don't bleed enough to fulfill your idea of justice."

\-----

He wrapped his fingers around the glass, squeezing his eyes shut, searching for a single reason not to do it, and there was only one, the same one that everyone else was surviving off of - because this wasn't living, this was purely survival. People didn't live like this.  
The only reason he was still here was because he didn't want to hurt the others more than they were already hurting.  
But maybe the would be happier without him.  
This battleground was deadly, he wore blood well for somebody so gentle, but this was always his nature; to give light in the dark, to shatter when needed. They said the biggest stars burn brightly and died quickly. Achilles was the sun, but he was a supernova.  
Where was Namjoon? He said he's stay by his side.  
So where was he now?  
He felt a sob heave his body. What was so wrong with him, that everyone could leave so easily?  
He really wanted to tell someone about the things going on in his head, but the truth was everyone was too busy with someone else.  
He was nobody's priority and he didn't want to bother anyone else with meaningless problems that they didn't need to hear.  
It had gotten to the point where he didn't know who he was anymore, he was constantly on the verge of breaking down.  
He felt like he was going crazy, and if his mind was an ocean, his thoughts were a tsunami.  
He couldn't sleep.  
He couldn't concentrate.  
He couldn't even think straight.  
He was a mess.  
It was midnight and he was stood here crying about nothing but at the same time everything.  
Nothing new's wrong but nothing's right either.  
He flipped open the bottle and poured the pills into his hands, he didn't count them, didn't care.  
He was even ready.  
He had even written a note.  
He was ready.  
And then, suddenly there was tapping on the door, soft, unsure knocks.  
"Hoseok - ah? Are you okay? You've been in there for a long time."  
It was Namjoon.  
Hoseok breathed out heavily. He didn't trust himself to speak without his voice betraying him.  
"Hoseok?"  
Namjoon sounded scared now. The handle twisted and there was a moment of hesitation.  
"Please open the door."  
Hoseok stared at the door, his eyes wide. His hands shook, he could hardly breathe.  
"Hoseokie." His voice had dropped to a whisper. "You're scaring me."  
He stepped back, a sob escaping his lips, and really that's all Namjoon needed to push the door open, his heart stopping as he froze staring at the scene, breaths dying in his throat.  
Never had he seen Hoseok stare at him so vulnerable, his right hand closed in a fist, a peek of brightly coloured coloured pills visible. There was glass on the floor, his breaths were heavy, tears on his face, fingers shaking. His eyes were wide, empty, hollow, his shoulders slumped and Namjoon felt himself go speechless.  
This was how Hoseok was feeling and he had never noticed?  
How hadn't he noticed?  
"Hoseok." He said tentatively. "Hoseok let the pills go."  
There was a moment before he opened his fists, the pills clattering on the floor like rain.  
Namjoon watched him carefully, and he knew that he didn't need questions being asked right now, he felt a distinct pain in his chest - Hoseok was feeling like this, he would tell him but who would he tell?  
"Come here, Hoseok."  
He felt as though he was talking to a child, delicate, fragile, breakable. He was talking to someone older than him like this. Since when had he become the adult?  
Hoseok stepped forwards.  
Namjoon held his hand out and Hoseok took it, interlocking fingers. Namjoon squeezed his hand reassuringly, steering him out of the danger, sitting him on a bed.  
Namjoon frowned, seeing blood on his clothes.  
"Are you bleeding?" His voice was soft. He touched Hoseok's hair gently. "Where?"  
Hoseok showed his right palm where a deep cut had been made from a shard of glass.  
Namjoon took a shaky breath.  
He cleaned the wound. Dressed it.  
Coaxed him out of his bloody clothes. Dressed him.  
It hurt him. Namjoon felt pain.  
What was happening to them? To BTS?  
Did he blame Kim Taehyung for doing this to them?  
Could he blame Taehyung? Was he allowed, given his current status?  
No. No. No.  
He couldn't blame Tae. He wasn't allowed, it was like an unwritten rule. He couldn't blame the absent.

He touched Hoseok's arm gently.  
"Hoseok." He whispered. "What do you need? Tell me. Talk to me. Say something. Anything."  
Hoseok looked at him, breathing deeply.  
"I - " His voice cracked. He wanted to say a lot. He didn't want to say anything.  
"Tonight." He started again. "Tonight I'm sad. I'm alone. I can't deal with this on my own. I - " he breathed in and out slowly. " - I need you to hold me."  
It was an innocent, simple request.  
Namjoon felt his shoulders drop. It wasn't enough, but it was something.  
He put his arms around the other boy, threading his fingers through his hair, holding his hand, holding him tightly.  
"You're okay." He said softly. "I'm here."  
And maybe it was just the fact that those words were so true, that someone had proved his demons wrong, that broke him, and he put his head on Namjoon's shoulder, tears falling down his cheeks, and Namjoon held him as he cried, and they had both been in so much pain, and neither of them had known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left kudos, I really appreciate it!
> 
> I just want to tell you how much you're loved and appreciated and how much of a beautiful person you are. Saranghae!
> 
> Kudos+feedback is nice! Army hwaiting~!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's so short. And rushed.  
> Contains rape ~ tw

"Taehyungie."  
Taehyung was jerked awake when the speakers screeched with life, his mind still clouded with sleep, breaths deep, eyes fluttering open.  
"Wake up, Pet."  
Taehyung felt himself grow cold on the last word, a shiver running down his spine. It sounded so dominating, cruel.  
"I'm going to bring you up to one of the rooms." Chanyeol spoke softly, his voice like velvet, dripping with danger, Taehyung's heart doing flips in his chest. His breaths caught in his throat.  
Did he do something wrong?  
Did he mess up? Should he apologise? What did he do? Was it his fault?  
"You do miss Bangtan, do you not?" Chanyeol asked mockingly. "You say their names every night in your sleep."  
Tae's eyes went dark.  
"Don't …. " He could hardly speak without tripping over his words, his voice hoarse from misuse. He didn't speak unless in was necessary, he was afraid of saying the wrong thing, that it would result in someone getting hurt. But the adrenalin in his veins whispered to him to speak up, he couldn't bite his tongue hard enough to keep quiet. Not this time.  
"Don't hurt them." He choked. "Don't … don't … "  
"Save your voice, pet." Chanyeol mused. "You're going to need it."

Taehyung slumped in his chair as Chanyeol stood directly opposite him,their faces close, a black mask hiding his face.  
"Remember when I told you that no one cares about you?" He whispered. "I wasn't lying. They are out in public today. They don't care about you, pet. You're irrelevant."  
He leaned in even closer, so close that they were breathing in the same air, close enough that Taehyung wished he could move back to maintain personal space, close enough that Taehyung had to look at his hands, because if he stared into Chanyeol's deranged eyes any longer he himself would go insane.  
"They don't care about you." Chanyeol whispered. "They only pretend they do."  
And even if he didn't believe a single word Chanyeol breathed those words made him revolt back as though he'd been hit by a bullet because all his life he'd been terrified of never being enough, he'd always had a fear rooted within him that he was a burden upon Bangtan, that they were all lying to him when they told him he was worth it, and maybe it was just the thought that he had gotten this far in his career which had kept him going, all this time.

He had strings attached to him which kept him together, which kept him from falling apart, and maybe all the strings inside him broke.

Chanyeol watched his face slacken in pain, saw the look on his eyes, saw how on edge, how close he was to giving everything up. But until the lambs turned to lions he couldn't try anything. Not quite yet. He needed to make Taehyung faithful to him, he needed to trust him, enough that even if he unlocked his cage he would have confidence that Taehyung wouldn't try to escape. Hungry dogs were never loyal.  
"They don't care, pet." Chanyeol cooed. "They've been hurting you all this time. So now I'm going to hurt them."  
And Taehyung just sat there, shell shocked. How funny that the words which destroyed him were so simple, so mediocre, and yet they affected him right to his soul? Chanyeol found it enticing, exhilarating. He was enjoying his game.  
A screen was clumsily tapered into the wall in front of Taehyung, a live camera recording of a dark alley. It must be late. Taehyung thought somewhere amidst the chaos in his mind. If must be night.  
"Will you let me hurt them, Taehyung?"  
Taehyung stared at the screen.  
He was strong, but he was a child. He wasn't made for this cruel world, he wasn't made for violence and torture and murder, he was made for pretty, soft things, he was made to sing on stage and give people a reason to live, he was made to love and be loved with that beautiful soul, but right now he had impulse clouding his conscience and he looked up into the psychopaths eyes with an eerie smile in his face  
"Hurt them."  
Chanyeol narrowed his eyes.

"Who, Taehyung? Who shall I hurt?"  
Taehyung felt his heart clench. His mind reeled as he weighed his options. He wanted to hurt someone whose pain he would take pleasure from, someone whom he could look at in satisfaction without an ounce of guilt as they whimpered in pain, and god, he knew just who would provide him with the pleasure he wanted.  
Silly Taehyung. He had once loved him, they had spoken romance in the sunset, laid side by side, they had been sinners together, but Taehyung … Taehyung wanted destroy everything he loved before it destroyed him, he wanted to prove that he was playing for the winning side, he wanted them all to regret lying to him in the first place.

"Jungkook." He whispered, a smile playing on his lips. "Make him scream."

Chanyeol had promised him a thriller and as the first person came into sight on the camera, Taehyung was convinced he would receive what he bargained for.

\-------

It grew dark outside as the fansign ended.  
He had stared in the mirror as they dusted powder onto his face, turning his cheeks rosy, hiding his pale skin and circles under his eyes, bringing colour into his face, spraying his newly dyed hair with canned substances to give it volume and putting a pair of clear glasses on the bridge of his nose to hide his empty eyes.  
He had watched silently as they chose soft colours for him to wear, large clothes to disguise his thinning body, to hide the loss of the definition of his abs and muscles, so that if they hung off him, it wouldn't cause such a concern. He hadn't spoken during the process.  
He had held the hands of fans, unable to bring a smile to his lips. He had looked at them unseeingly as they murmured their condolences, as they sobbed for the seventh member. He had seen so many faces, heard so many names, but there was only one face he was interested in. Only one name he cared about.  
But oh, he could even think about him without tears starting in his eyes, his body shaking with sobs as someone held him, but there was only one person he wanted to be held by.  
He still remembered their last embrace; he'd never been held so tight, Taehyung hadn't wanted him to leave and he was so oblivious, but now, looking back it was as though he had known it was goodbye, and all he could think was that he would have rather died in his arms that night now that he knew what would happen when he let go.  
He slumped in his chair, head lolling against the mirror, breathing hard.  
"Jungkookie."  
He looked up to see Seokjin holding out a few notes of money in his fingers.  
"Go buy some snacks. My treat." He tried to smile. "There's a store a few blocks down." Jungkook took the money with a small nod.  
"Thank you hyung." He said softly. Some form of emotion flickered over Seokjin's face as he patted Jungkook's shoulder lightly.  
"Be careful. It's dark outside."  
Jungkook nodded again, reassuringly, picking his phone up and moving towards the door, leaving the dressing room, inhaling the cool night air.  
Why was he so depressed?  
He didn't know. Maybe it was because it was midnight and he was alone, maybe it was because this world was so fucking cruel. Maybe it was because he was so tired of living.  
He sighed softly, turning a corner into a dark alleyway. He frowned, halting for a moment. Was this the right way? He didn't remember such a dark alleyway, he didn't even remember walking so far from the venue. He put his hand into his pocket, only to find it empty. He exhaled sharply.  
Where was his phone? He was so sure he'd bought it. He distinctly recalled picking it up and putting it into his pocket … so where was it? Had it fallen out? Had someone stolen it? No, this was not good, not good at al -  
"Are you lost baby boy?"  
Jungkook whipped his head around to see a man who looked to be in his late twenties moving towards him. All of his impulses screamed danger, telling him to run, but he couldn't, he almost felt paralyzed, as though the man reminded him of someone. Maybe it was the smell of pretty things mixed with strong aftershave or maybe it was the lingering smell of alcohol.  
Or maybe Jungkook was drawn to him because for some uncanny reason he felt as though there was some sort of correlation between him and Taehyung.  
"Well baby boy. Aren't you just the cutest thing?" The man cooed evilly. "How much?"  
Jungkook began to walk again as the man moved, despite having no idea where he was. The man sounded unsafe, perverted calling him such pet names upon meeting. It repulsed him.  
"How much baby boy? I can be your sugar daddy."  
Jungkook felt his cheeks burn as he broke into a run.  
"I … I don't do that!.." He tried in a feeble voice as the man was catching up to him.  
"Baby boy. Don't you want your phone?" The man said in a teasing voice. "I have your phone. But I want something. I'll pay you baby."  
"I'm not a prostitute." Jungkook's voice was shaky. "Please, just give me my phone back. I should be getting back there." The man laughed.  
"Baby boy - "  
"Stop calling me that!!!" Jungkook screamed, face paling. "Keep my goddamn phone! Just get lost!"  
He began to run faster. He heard no footsteps behind him and a faint bout of relief washed over him.  
And then suddenly he felt a pain at the back of his hair and suddenly he was falling like a fallen angel, and this holy ground was burning his feet; and everything went black.

When Jungkook regained consciousness all he was aware of was that he was tied up against a broken car, a belt wrapped around his neck like a collar, duct tape on his lips and wrists.  
And god. Oh god.  
The man was working at his cock shamelessly as he lay on his side, ass throbbing, tears streaming down his cheeks. His sobs were muffled and his screams were indistinguishable as human noises as his whole body shook, shivers running down his spine in pure terror and sheer horror of the situation. All he could feel was agony as his cries were blatantly ignored, his muted begging, pathetic.  
He wasn't sure how long after he heard a whisper in his ear, his blood running cold.  
"He licks blood off his fingers looking like define absolution, careful, meleager; this is your sport, but he's not playing your game, Kim Taehyung." Jungkook froze. "Do not think you are safe because you love him. Do not think be will not stain his mouth red with your blood."  
His phone was put in front of him as the men left.  
A steady rain shower began to trickle down and Jungkook sobbed for innocence lost, Kim Taehyung and how much he was hurting.

\----------

No no no, this wasn't right, it wasn't supposed to end like this. This wasn't supposed to happen.  
"That was inhumane." Taehyung managed. "I … I just … I can't ... I'm not like you. "  
But Chanyeol just laughed.  
"Oh, but little boy, don't you see? You've always been a monster inside. Embrace it pet, the people who hurt you deserve to burn. But them all. Burn them to the ground."  
Taehyung stared at the screen where Jungkook lay, have conscious, sobbing heavily hardly able to process anything.  
"Just remember." Chanyeol smirked. "You consented to this. It was all on you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for all the support so far! Army hwaiting~!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains content which may be triggering

His fingers shook, his heart fluttering, lungs straining for oxygen, tears creating paths down his cheeks, sobs racking his body, he couldn't move, couldn't bring his body to do as he wished. It felt foreign, like a stranger's body, he hadn't fought near the end, the fight had left him. He'd heard the sound of everything falling to pieces, heard the sound of his will crumbling. Felt something inside him change.

How long had he laid there? He didn't know, it felt like forever. 

His phone lay centimetres from his head but he didn't want to touch it. Didn't want to touch something that someone else had touched, he didn't want to own something manhandled by another.  
But if that was how he played then he couldn't call his own body his own, could he?  
Another sob choked through he lips as he lay on the asphalt, the dirt on his body nothing compared to the filth which he wouldn't be able to remove later. 

He was dirty, dirty, dirty.

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply when his phone screen lit up and the caller ID showed Seokjin, smiling, happy, careless. He almost didn't answer the phone, he almost didn't want to leave this place, didn't want to face the others. Not now. 

Not like this.

But with shaking fingers he answered the phone, holding it to his ear, his better judgement completely failing him, his other hand over his mouth to stifle his erratic breathing and sobbing.

"Jungkook?" Jin's voice was frantic. "Oh my god, Jungkook! Jungkook where are you? Why didn't you answer my calls?"

Jungkook took a shaky breath, tilting his head back trying to even his breathing.

"Kookie?" Seokjin's voice was little more than a whisper. "What happened Jungkook? Please talk. You're scaring me, baby."

It was a harmless pet name, one he'd been called countless times playfully but immediately his mind flitted back to the man who had touched him, who had hurt him, pinning him down, his voice cold, harsh, dominant, deaf to the cries of the younger boy, blind to his writhing body. His pupils dilated and he breathed in sharply.

"Jungkookie?"

"Hyung." He whispered. "Hyung. Hyung please. Hyung."

"Jungkook what the hell happened??" Jin's voice was desperate. "Where are you? I sent Yoongi out to find you almost an hour ago! Where are you?!"

"Hyung." His voice was choked. "Hyung come get me. Hyung." He began to sob pitifully. "Hyung please."

"Jungkook!"  
Jungkook looked up, sitting up slightly to see Yoongi, Jimin trailing behind him, their faces pale, ashen, eyes wide. He heard a beep on his phone which signalled that Jin had hung up and he took in a ragged breath.

"Jungkook?" Yoongi was coming closer. He was coming closer.

No no no no.

"Jungkook why are you here? Do you know how far you are from where Jin hyung sent you?"

No no no no.

"Jungkook are you listening?"

"Hyung don't touch me." His voice was sharp and cold, it held authority and it almost shocked him how controlled he sounded. Yoongi faltered.

"What? What happened?" 

Jungkook stumbled to his feet, trying not to wince in pain. Yoongi took a step towards him and he let out a small scream.

" Stop it! " He cried. "Get away from me!"

Yoongi froze and Jimin breathed in sharply. "Kookie. We've just come to take you home, okay?"

He complied when they told him to follow them, sat in the car silently. He wasn't a monster, he didn't become evil in a heartbeat. But he'd felt something inside him shatter, felt the cords which were intertwined with his heart snap.

He was just a child.

 

"Jungkook." 

Seokjin's voice was little more than a whisper.

"Kookie. Come here."

He stared with empty eyes and a blank expression, he heard his phone vibrate in his pocket like a heartbeat making up for his own and he glanced at his hyungs outstretched hand, breaths uneven, shaking his head very slightly.

"I - " His voice cracked. "I can't."

Jin nodded as though he understood but no. No, how could he understand?

Wordlessly he moved towards the bathroom, locking the door behind him, pulling out his phone. He'd got a message. From an unknown number.  
He opened it, fingers shaking.

Unknown: Baby boy. Pretty thing. You won't say a word about this will you? Because if you do I'll kill all your hyungs.  
Unknown: I want to see you again baby. Tomorrow. Same place. Alone.

And in that moment he really screamed, the loudest, most painful scream he'd ever uttered, it ripped him right to his soul, he felt tears on his cheeks, his breaths hot, he could've spit blood, could've thrown a knife, shot a bullet at his hyungs just to save them. Who's fault was this? What did he do to deserve this?

He heart pounding on the door, shouts to let the others in but no, he had to save them, he had to save them, he wasn't their baby anymore, he wasn't Kookie, he wasn't pretty or beautiful or cute, he was dirty, filthy, he was Jeon Jungkook, he wasn't here to be a saviour but somehow he had become one.  
He sobbed loudly as the door was swung at so hard he feared it might break, he didn't want them here right now, he didn't even want to be alone, he just wanted Taehyung.

But Taehyung …. Wasn't this the cause of Taehyung? Had Taehyung hurt him after he had sworn into his ear, promised to do no such thing?  
The tears were choked, he stared at his reflection in the mirror, bruises forming on his face, on his collarbones, he turned on the shower and stood beneath it fully clothed, he had to scrub his body raw.

He had to be clean.

He ripped at his pretty pink highlights because there was nothing pretty about this, nothing remotely romanticized, he wanted to drown, wanted to die, wanted this all to end. He didn't trust anyone before Taehyung, Tae had taught him love and trust but in a single second every line he had ever created had been crossed, his boundaries broken, his limits well surpassed.

He moved towards the mirror dripping wet, phone in one hand from the floor, the other hand curled into a fist. He stared at his reflection again; felt disgusting again. He couldn't look at this.

He raised his hands with soft skin and innocent knuckles and swung them with all his power into the mirrors surface and it cracked into pieces, just as the door banged open and Hoseok, Yoongi and Jin stood in the doorway, eyes agape, unable to focus on little more than the steam from the boiling shower, the broken mirror, and the boy stood in the middle of it all looking helpless, lost, hand bloody, face full of tears. When he looked up there was something hollow in those brown eyes, as though he truly had given up, as though he had nothing left.

There was a long silence which stretched out long and uncomfortably before Jungkook began to sob into his bloody fists, those same, painful sobs, begging Jin to stay back when he neared him.

"I'm bad I'm bad." He whispered, rocking back and forth. "The air I breathe is bad. I am corrupt. Don't come near me. Stay away."

He sobbed again and Yoongi and Hoseok left as Jin murmured reassurances to them, moving forwards tentatively. "Kookie. At least let me bandage your hand and let me shower you."

He sounded so desperate that Jungkook agreed, because after all, after all he had to make his hyungs happy, he had to make them proud of him, had to give them hope of finding Taehyung. Even though Taehyung hurt them. Was hurting them.

"Don't call me Kookie, hyung." Jungkook's voice was tired, resigned. "I'm not Kookie anymore."

"Why not?"

Jungkook inhaled deeply. "Kookie is a cute name. I'm not Kookie. I can't be. Not anymore."

Jin pursed his lips, torn between urgency to understand the situation and Jungkook's personal comfort zone.

"Let me call you Kookie anyway. You'll always be Kookie to me."

Jungkook closed his eyes with a small noise of strain. Why could they not understand this? He wanted to be good and innocent and pure.  
But he wasn't.  
He wasn't.  
He fucking was not.

"Okay hyung."  
He tried to smile but it didn't quite look right and Jin came forwards and put his arms around his, pulling him into a tight embrace, but all he could think about was how he was polluting his hyung right now, he was dirtying him with this touch and that maybe he did deserve this because boys were meant to be cold and harsh and cruel, all bloody knuckles and sweat.

They weren't meant to look pretty and like pretty things or be cute and innocent and lovable, they weren't meant to dress in pastels with a soft voice and a boyfriend, were they?

\-----------------------

Taehyung lay against the cold stone, his heart beating harshly into his chest.

All he could replay was the image of Jungkook, small, vulnerable, lying on the ground, his body shaking with sobs. He'd done that.  
He'd done that to Jungkook, to Kookie, his baby, his princess, he had hurt the boy whom he had sworn to protect and love forever, he had hurt him.

He had never hated himself more than he had in that moment, cold and shivering, his mind was a mess. 

He had done bad things in his life before, things he regretted, things he stayed up at midnight and thought about, but god, this regret would take up his every midnight for the rest of his life, and in that instance, Taehyung was terrifiedof the person he was, of the person he was becoming.

Because if this was how he treated the boy he would die for, the boy he loved, he was terrified of what he would do to those whom he didn't care for as much.

His mind just wouldn't stop reeling at the thought. Silly boy, didn't he know? 

He may as well have been there with Jungkook at night and ignored his begs, silly Kim Taehyung, he wouldn't have taken remorse upon the boy he said he loved. 

It was easy to say "I love you" but love was more than just three words, and maybe Taehyung didn't know that yet. Maybe he was just a boy who was also an idol, in a group with six other boys, taken by a psychotic man with no sense of justice, in love with the idea of being in love.

Maybe he didn't really love Jeon Jungkook because if he really loved him, he would have never hurt him, he would never put himself in a situation where he would hurt him. Silly Taehyung, for hurting the boy who loved him, a boy who desperately needed to be loved back.

Taehyung felt a tear run down his cheek. He was a worse person than he had thought. How sad that it had to be a deranged psychopath who showed him that.

\------------------- 

Jungkook let the shower run over him, scalding his back as he sat in the tub, water up to his waist, Jin carefully washing the dirt from his hair, careful not to touch his bruises body, careful not to show signs of concern. Seokjin felt a bout of anger creep up his chest but he swallowed it hard, trying to remain contained.

He didn't care how much Jungkook whispered in a tiny voice that he was okay, that he'd just "tripped", there were bruises in the shape of a handprint on his waist as though he'd been held too tightly, scratches down the length of his back, on his arms, his chest, blood sliding down his skin, tender to touch.

And yet Jungkook told Jin to scrub his body harder, his voice weak, shaking slightly.

" You missed a spot hyung." He murmured almost absently. "It's okay hyung, I'm not hurt. Give it to me hyung. I have to be clean."

He took the sponge and harshly raked it down his torso, he had to scrub harder, scrub and scrub his body, scrub until he bled, he had to convince himself he was coming clean. He had to ignore the boy he had been before.

That kid was never coming back.

Seokjin helped Jungkook out of the tub after he'd attacked his body raw for over an hour, wrapping a towel around his frame and helping him into some soft pajamas, exchanging little more than glances, Jungkook's heartbeat loud and erratic, fear thrumming adrenalin into his veins.

"Shall I stay with you tonight, Jungkookie?" Seokjin's voice was so soft, as though he was speaking to a child, but Jungkook shook his head.

"I'm not a baby, hyung. I can take care of myself."

He had skimmed over his hyungs sad faces. How they were all hurting, how they had their own problems, and Jungkook knew that he couldn't burden them with his situation, how he couldn't expect them to save him.

In the end, he would have to be his own hero, because everyone was too busy trying to save themselves.

He lay beneath his covers his body shaking, despite the heating, and Jungkook decided that perhaps it would always be winter here now. His phone buzzed again and he felt something sharp in his chest as he picked it up, recognising the same unknown number.

Unknown: Are you in bed, baby boy? Want to send me some pics of your body? Courtesy of Kim Taehyung's master.

He didn't quite understand what the person meant about Taehyung, apart from the fact that his name written down made him hurt all over, and the request made him feel disgusting all over again. He could feel hysteria rise in his throat as he turned his phone off and slipped out of bed, padding across the room and into the hallway.

He peeked into each room as he passed, trying to reverse the intense feeling of nausea and anxiety building within him. Every butterfly within his gut was writhing in pain, just like him. Dying. Leaving him, just as everything else did.

In the first room Hoseok sat with his head on Namjoon's shoulder. They spoke in hushed whispers of the world and its cruelty's, how everything was falling to dust and how the stars didn't seem to shine bright anymore.

In the second was Yoongi and Jimin . Yoongi had his arms around Jimin, rubbing soft circles into his arm, speaking gentle reassurances into his ear about how things were going to get better. He spoke a mouthful of lies, but at least he knew how to make them beautiful.

In the last room was Seokjin. He sat in front of his small TV which he kept in his room, huddled under a large, fluffy blanket, eyes vacant, unfocused, the TV muted, the pictures all black and white. Jungkook stood in the doorway for a moment, contemplating whether or not to enter when Jin looked up, smiling sadly at the younger boy before opening his arms and inviting him in.

Immediately Jungkook entered the room, climbing onto his lap, wrapping his legs around his waist, burying his face into the nape of his neck, breathing in subtle, familiar scents which set his heart at ease as Jin wrapped his arms around his body stroking his hair softly.

There was a comfortable silence before Jungkook spoke hesitantly, biting his lip.

"Hyung." He took a breath. "Hyung. Do you think Taehyung still cares about us?"

He felt Jin stiffen.

"I … Of course, Jungkookie. Why wouldn't he?"

"He wouldn't hurt us would he?" Jungkook pulled back, staring his hyung in the eyes. "He wouldn't, would he hyung?" He begged. "He wouldn't hurt us on purpose?"

Jin averted his gaze, closing his eyes, breathing deeply.

"Kookie. Taehyung loves you, if that's what you're asking. He loves you so much. It doesn't matter what anyone tells him to do. He wouldn't hurt you."

"In any way?" Jungkook's voice was urgent. "At all?"

Jin huffed out a deep breath. "Jungkook, I'm not following you. Can you give me an example?"

Jungkook felt something inside him shatter. His resistance. His ability to give a goddamn shit.

"For example." He said quietly. "Rape."

The effect was instantaneous. Jin's face went slack, eyes wide, jaw dropping, his arms going limp.

"Jungkook." He whispered. "Why would you say something like that?"

Jungkook ignored the question, searching his hyungs face for something, any indication as to how he felt on the subject. He wasn't sure what he expected, but the blatant disgust on his face. His hyung was disgusted with him. The very word disgusted him. Of course it would.

" It was just an example." His voice was emotionless.

"Jungkook." Seokjin's voice was very calm. "I hope you know that you deserve it all. The best, the most honest, the most beautiful and purest love in the world. Don't forget that."

Jungkook looked down at his fingers, taking shallow breaths, rocking, back and forth, back and forth.

"Jungkook. If something has happened, I need you go tell me. I need you to tell me because a situation which can be easily resolved can turn into something way out of your control. I need you to tell me, Kookie. I won't think less of you for anything."

"Don't worry about me, Jin hyung." Jungkook smiled softly, touching his cheek as though he were a child. "I'm okay. Don't worry about me. Don't worry about anything. I am here. I'll protect you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll add more of Tae's pov next chapter. Maybe some yoonmin. We'll have to wait and see :)
> 
> Army hwaiting~!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!!THIS IS INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT!!!!!
> 
> 1\. Okay. So in this chapter there is Stockholm syndrome. This is the definition:
> 
> Stockholm syndrome  
> noun  
> feelings of trust or affection felt in many cases of kidnapping or hostage-taking by a victim towards a captor.
> 
> Despite how I have written it, in no way is Stockholm syndrome romantic or okay. I have written it so that it suits my plot and story line, I'm not trying to convey the wrong message or in any way shape or form trying to say that this is desirable or romantic. Because it isn't.
> 
> 2\. I had a question on whether Jungkook is a little. The answer is yes. I've tried to explain it in the chapter but if u still don't understand the circumstances of his littlespace then don't hesitate to ask!!
> 
> Finally, this chapter contains contents which may be triggering.

" "On your knees, Pet."

Almost instinctively Taehyung dropped straight to his knees, shoulders sagging, looking down at the other man's feet, an unexplainable emotion churning in the pits of his gut. 

He swallowed hard as Chanyeol's fingertips grazed the tender part of his jaw, forcing him to look up. He felt his heart sink as he saw the man's eyes filled with lust, staring at him as though he was a predator, playing with its prey.

Taehyung took a deep breath.

"Master." He whispered. Chanyeol's eyes flashed.

"It's Oppa, baby." Chanyeol said, almost enduringly. "Call me oppa."

Chanyeol's fingers closed around Taehyung's throat, thumb pressing against his windpipe as he gasped for air, his body shuddering.

"Oppa." He choked. "Oppa please! Please let me … let me …. " He tried to swallow only to taste blood between his lips, head spinning.

Chanyeol let him go, sneering.

"You thirsty piece of shit." He snarled, bending down to look him in the eyes. "You are disgusting. You know that?"

"Yes." Taehyung gasped.

"Yes what, pet?"

"Yes oppa!" Taehyung sobbed pitifully. Chanyeol sneered again, gritting his teeth together, huffing in annoyance.

"Tell me, baby. Do you even know what you're agreeing to? Hmm?" Taehyung shook his head, sniffling.

"You are disgusting, Taehyung, because you raped a small and innocent boy."

Taehyung sucked in a breath. "I didn't - "

"But you gave the consent, pet. This is all on you. You should know by now Taehyungie. You're dangerous, Taehyung." Chanyeol hissed. He felt a distinct pleasure bubble within him as he straightened up, the despair sketched all over his pets face. He put his face in his hands and sobbed loudly, his body shaking, breaths shuddering.

"I know." He sobbed. "I know. I know."

"You know what, baby?"

"I know I'm bad. I … I hurt Kookie. I hurt him. It's my fault. It's all my fault."

Chanyeol nodded satisfied, touching Taehyung's cheek, caressing it, giving Taehyung a false sense of security. "Tell me, pet. Do you think Jungkook will love you if he finds out what you did?"

Taehyung looked up, tears dotting on his long lashes, his beautiful eyes clouded with brutal acceptance, the eyes of someone who had seen too much darkness and not enough light.

"Even if he did." Taehyung whispered. "I would never let him be next to me ever again."

A small smile played on the man's lips. God, how he loved watching his baby tear himself apart. It was such a turn on.

"And why's that, baby?" Chanyeol said in a hushed voice.

"Because." Taehyung bit his lip. "Because he deserves someone who will never hurt him. He deserves everything."

Chanyeol laughed coldly. "How fondly you speak of him, Taehyung? Do you still love him, perhaps?"

"It doesn't matter if I love him. Sometimes love just isn't enough." He looked down.

"How true, Taehyungie." Chanyeol cooed. He bend down, pressing a kiss again Taehyung's jaw. "I'm so proud of you, baby. Moving on can be hard."

Taehyung nodded, tears still streaming down his face.

"Don't cry, pet. You're okay. Oppa is pleased with you." He wiped Taehyung eyes gently, kissing his soft pink lips sweetly. Taehyung kissed him back carefully before drawing away.

"You don't need Jungkook, baby. You have me." Chanyeol tested the waters.

"I know oppa." Taehyung ducked his head as Chanyeol stood up, moving towards a desk and dipping his fingers in thick, syrup-Iike substance before moving back towards Taehyung.

"Open up, pet."

Taehyung opened his mouth and Chanyeol put two fingers into his mouth. Taehyung sucked on his fingers obediently, looking up at Chanyeol with wide eyes, tongue playing with his fingertips, licking off the sweet substance. Chanyeol felt his mouth go dry. 

"Such a good boy, baby." Chanyeol cooed. "Oppa is so proud." He removed his fingers and Taehyung tried to smile.

"Thank you oppa." He said quietly.

"You've got such pretty lips, baby." Chanyeol said brushing a finger over them. Taehyung was learning fast to obey him, to trust him. He woke up screaming his friends names much less these days, the almost detached aura had left, and he was almost eager, willing to do as Chanyeol asked of him. Perhaps Chanyeol had began to fall for a boy with soft hair and tan skin with rosebud lips and a preference for Gucci, but if that was a problem then Chanyeol wasn't the slightest bit concerned. Looking at the small, pretty boy on the floor, Chanyeol had an inkling that perhaps his feelings wouldn't go unreturned.

"So pretty." Chanyeol repeated. He placed his right hand behind Taehyung's neck and bought him forwards so that his face was close to Chanyeol's crotch.

"Suck me off."

Taehyung looked up for a split second before tentatively touching Chanyeol's jeans, feeling a small smirk on his lips.

"I love you oppa." He pressed a kiss to Chanyeol's stomach. Chanyeol stroked Taehyung's hair, a breath hitching in his throat.

"I love you too, baby."

\-----------------------

Jimin inhaled deeply.

He was here again in this awful place with an endless cycle of waking up and destroying himself. He felt bitterness between his lips and utter destruction lingered around him, the stench of falling apart.  
He sat down on the floor of the dance hall, the room lilting dizzyingly as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Jiminie?"

Jimin flopped onto his back, breathing heavily as he heard Yoongi's voice bouncing off the walls in the hallway, a tiny tinge of guilt pooling in his stomach. Yoongi had told him to stop practising so much. To eat more. To prioritise. Made him promise.

But lately Jimin's promises seemed to be slipping through his fingers and shattering on the ground beneath his feet.

He tried to ignore the light headed mess he was becoming on the floor, tried to convince his body to get the hell up and move, but the cold floor soothed his bruised body and comforted him. It was familiar.

He sighed softly. A quiet shuffling making him frown very slightly, and he felt a sweet breath against his lips which made him open his eyes.

Yoongi leaned over him pouting, his mint coloured hair disheveled, his skin very pale, the circles around his eyes very prominent. He raised a hand, skimming his fingertips against Jimin's cheeks, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I thought I told you to be more careful."

Jimin shifted uncomfortably under his hyung. It wasn't that's Yoongi was heavy; quite the contrary really, but Jimin's body was weak, tired. He was ill and wasted, given up hopelessly on the thought of things getting better. The past was a sweet and distant memory. A fantasy.

"I'm being careful, hyung." Jimin reassured. "Don't worry about me."

"If I didn't worry about you then you would be in a much worse place, mister."

Yoongi's words were light, but Jimin heard the pain beneath them. He wasn't sure what hurt more. The fact that his hyung was using this as an advantage to his reasoning, or that it was true.

"I'm taking better care of myself." Jimin's voice was firm.

"I should hope so." Yoongi said. "I don't think Taehyung would want you to kill yourself for him."

"Hyung I'm not - "

"Of course you're not." Yoongi said. "That's what I'm here for." Finally, he moved back, taking Jimin's hand and pulling him to his feet.

"Do you want to go out shopping or some shit?" Yoongi asked with a small smile. "We haven't done anything for ages."

Jimin shrugged. "Sure." He said. "Should we bring Jungkook? He's been cooped up in for a while since   
… you know."

"Yeah." Yoongi said, worry clouding his vision. "Yeah. He hasn't been doing great."

Jimin sighed, thinking of the younger boy who's eyes didn't shine so bright anymore, who's smile wasn't so wide anymore, who didn't twirl around in pretty pink dress shirts any longer, who'd dyed his brown and pink hair jet black. Jungkook was doing worse than any of them. He wasn't sure that even if Taehyung did see him again, that he'd recognise him as the adorable boy he had been when he'd last saw him.

Jimin, nor anyone else, knew what had happened on the night of the fansign, except for the fact that it would have had to have been something terrible to make Jungkook stop loving himself.

Yoongi tapped Jimin's forehead lightly. "Don't get lost in that cute head of yours."

Jimin blushed. "I won't." He said.

He wished he could.

\--------------------

Namjoon lay on the couch, his arm slung over his face, Hoseok's hair tickling his fingers as he leaned back, the TV a low murmur, both of them in their own thoughts. Jimin and Yoongi had stayed in the studio for the past week, or so they had said, and Seokjin was with manager. Jungkook was alone somewhere in the dorm, and despite the fact that Namjoon was hesitant to leave him alone, he had insisted on closure, and so that's what he was given.

Hoseok's thoughts and mind was adrift. He wasn't quite here nor there, just somewhere in the grey area, comfortably carried out to the deep end of the sea, slowly drowning. But he was meant to be getting better so he kept his mouth shut and played along with everyone else. He knew that everyone was lying about attempting to better themselves. He could feel it, sense it. Not that he cared.

No. Of course not.

The lock of the dorm's door clicked open and Jimin walked through, bowing politely to his hyungs.

"Where's Jungkook?" He asked with a small frown.

"In his room." Namjoon provided. "Like he has been for the past few days."

"Alone?" Jimin stared. "And is he … ?"

"In little space?" Hoseok said helpfully. "No idea."

"Right." Jimin gritted his teeth. In all the years that Jimin had known Jungkook, he had only come out of little space once. Maybe twice. However, ever since Taehyung had gone missing he had been in and out of it, his moods unpredictable, edgy. Jimin moved towards his room, Yoongi in pursuit, tapping on the door gently before entering, indicating to Yoongi to stay out.

"Jungkookie?" Jimin's voice was tentative as he entered, shutting the door behind him. Jungkook was curled on his bed, a duvet wrapping around him, his skin sickly, flushed red as though he was ill. He moaned in his sleep and lashed out, a small cry escaping his lips.

"Jungkook." Jimin whispered,moving towards him. "Jungkook. Wake up." His throat went dry as he shook the younger boy aimlessly. "Jungkook?"

Jungkook gasped, his eyes flicking open, pupil dilating, grasping Jimin's arm tightly. 

"Hyung." He sobbed. "Hyung." 

Jimin put his arms around him instinctively, but Jungkook pushed him away. "Don't touch me." He whispered,eyes clouding over. "Don't fucking touch me."

"Jungkook - "

"No." Jungkook stumbled to his feet, moving away, eyes unfocused. "I was a child. You had no right to touch me."

Jimin's lips parted in an oh as Jungkook continued, not looking at him, still half in his dream. 

"Jungkook you're dreaming. This isn't real. It isn't real." Jimin whispered.

"But it was." Jungkook sobbed. "He was inside of me and he's not leaving. Unclean. So unclean. Please, don't hate me, don't yell at me, please."

"Jungkook. Stop talking. You're sleeping, Jungkook. You don't know what you're saying. You will regret this."

Jimin felt something bitter in his mouth listening to what Jungkook was saying, felt something inside him writhe, he didn't know if he was completely misinterpreting what was being said, he wasn't even sure if any of it was true, but god, it was awful, it made him hurt from the inside out.

"I've been used and used and used and used." Jungkook mumbled, probably having not heard Jimin. "He keeps touching me. I tell him not to but he keeps on touching me."

He moved forwards, only to trip on the edge of the bed. He stood up straight, squinting, looking at Jimin, the clouds lifting from behind his eyes.

"Jimin hyung." He frowned. "Is something wrong?"

Jimin stared at the younger boy, speechless, breaths escaping him, back pressed against the wall.

"Hyung - "

Jungkook moved forwards, an arm outstretched ignoring the screaming in his head but Jimin flinched. Jungkook retracted his hand quickly, hurt stabbing him in his chest.

"Do you need something, hyung." He said dully, looking at his feet, biting his lip.

"Jungkook." Jimin gasped. "You … you … " 

He gulped, words dying on his tongue. What was he supposed to say? Was anything Jungkook saying real, of was it truly just a dream?

"No, nothing. I have nothing to say to you. Never mind."

Jimin tried not to cringe at how harsh he sounded as he quickly left the room,grabbing Yoongi's arm, his mind a haze of emotions. He bumped into Seokjin who eyed Jimin's face with a steely glare.

"What happened?" He asked, eyes widening. 

"I ... I don't … "

Jin moved past him, straight into Jungkook's room.

The younger boy was sat on the bed, eyes glassy. He didn't look up when Jin entered, but he spoke very quietly in a very small voice, and he sounded so very young and vulnerable.

"Hyung. What's wrong with me that everyone just leaves?"

Everything that Seokjin had held onto, that kept him together, seemed to crumble. In that moment he would've done anything Jungkook asked from him.

Jungkook just looked at his hyung who stood uncomfortably in the corner and he thought back to how Jimin had cringed away from his touch and he felt tears burn at the back of his eyes.

But these things couldn't be helped. Sore arms, bruised knees.

How nobody would touch him.

\----------------------------------

Taehyung lay alone as tears made their way down his cheeks.

Clipped wings.

He was a broken thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point I don't know whether to hate Taehyung or feel sorry for him, and I'm the one writing this :/
> 
> Anyway, feedback appreciated
> 
> Army hwaiting~!!!!!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been some time, but I had my last exam today!!! I'm free!!
> 
> Okay, before you start I need to clear a few things.
> 
> 1: Any sex which Taehyung has IS consented, however he has Stockholm syndrome, taking this into account, it's more like drunken consent, apart from the fact that he's aware what he's consenting too. If you want to understand more you can always search it up. Google is a great thing.
> 
> 2\. NO SEX JUNGKOOK HAS IS CONSENSUAL. IT IS ALL RAPE. THIS NEEDS TO BE STRESSED. It may seem like he's consenting but he ISNT it's more of a pressurised decision/blackmail.
> 
> Finally this contains slight degradation, a homophobic comment and a lot of sexual meanings but no actual smut. Not yet.

Jimin held Jungkook's hand as they weaved between the other shoppers, Yoongi a little way behind them. Jungkook had a pair of round glasses perched on his nose, his hair all parted to one side, wearing faded blue overalls and a stripped cotton shirt. He looked small, soft, and Jimin could almost pretend that he'd never heard anything Jungkook had said when he thought he'd been dreaming.

Almost, but not quite.

"Where do you want to go, Jungkookie?" Jimin's voice shook very slightly, but enough for Jungkook to hear it and turn to look at him, his wide doe eyes emotionless, his body stiffening, becoming cold.

"I don't mind." He said softly, looking down at his feet.

"Do you want ice cream?" Jimin asked desperately. Perhaps they were pushing him into littlespace, perhaps it was unreasonable of them to dress him up and hold his hand and tell him that everything was perfect as it broke to pieces in front of him.

"If you want hyung." A pause. "Only if you eat as well."

And it was at that moment went Jimin stopped walking, his hand going limp, his hold around Jungkook disappearing, his heart skipping beats, the music in his ears spasming, and Yoongi stared at Jungkook, eyes narrowed in concentration as though he was a puzzle which he was trying to figure out.

But if Jungkook was a puzzle then Jimin had just put down the last piece, heart thundering as he stared at the finished picture.

It was at that moment that Jimin knew that they had lost him.

The boy with giggling laughter. The boy with a preference for pretty, who wore innocence like a blatant halo. The boy who loved with all of his heart the boy who it was impossible not to fall in love with. Jimin wasn't sure what had happened to him,but it seemed that somewhere along the line of fixing themselves they had lost him.

"Hyung?" Jungkook looked up, a tiny pout decorating his lips. Jimin exhaled sharply.

"I just want you to be happy, Jungkookie."

A tiny, sad smile touched the corner of his lip.

"I haven't been happy for a really long time, hyung." Jungkook whispered. "And maybe I deserve all of this."

"Kookie, no." Jimin moved towards his dongsaeng, appreciated it when he didn't flinch away in a public place. "You're okay baby. You're getting better. You will get better. We're here for you." He bought Jungkook into his arms, ignoring the younger boys thudding heart and stiff body.

"Ice cream, hyung?" Jungkook's voice was thick, and Jimin pretended that he didn't see the tears in his eyes or his half lidded eyes.

"Yeah." He nodded, holding on hand out for Jungkook to take and the other for Yoongi to take. Jimin rubbed sultry circles into Jungkook's palm soothingly as he hand held onto Jimin tightly as though he was afraid to let go.

Jimin stepped into an ice-cream place, allowing Yoongi to explain why they needed a private booth before moving upstairs into their designated room and closing the door behind them.

Jungkook sat on a chair wordlessly, looking at his fingers, face completely blank, hair falling into his empty eyes. Yoongi noticed Jimin's lingering eyes on the younger boy. He felt an incline that Jimin's knew something, he could tell from the blatant worry in his expression, how he danced around Jungkook, his hesitance. How he didn't really want to touch him.

"What ice cream to do you want, Jungkookie?" Jimin's voice was full of lies, a mouthful of sugar coated hardships. 

"I don't mind. You choose." 

Jimin hesitated before taking Yoongi's choice and leaving the room to order, the atmosphere suddenly tense. Jungkook's eyes flitted up to Yoongi who stood at the other end of the room, frozen, unsure of what to do.

"Do you love him?"

Jungkook's voice was soft with a hint of childish curiousity which almost threw Yoongi off. It was something Yoongi hadn't heard for a while and hadn't expected to hear.

"Of course I love him. Don't you?"

Jungkook narrowed his eyes analysing Yoongi's face with a small frown.

"You know that's not what I mean, hyung."

Yoongi averted Jungkook's gaze feeling his cheeks go warm. He felt something close to resentment bubble inside him but he bit it down. This was Jungkook, he didn't know better than to ask childish questions that hit too close to home. At least he didn't used to. Now? Yoongi wasn't sure of anything.

"Even if I did, we aren't in any position to be forming romantic attachments." Yoongi's voice was harsh, sharp. "Yes, I know what you mean. No, I don't love him all."

Yoongi felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, the words bitter on the tip of his tongue. He watched Jungkook's eyes widen, his lips forming an oh shape as though a thought had just occurred to him, just as Jimin re-entered the room, two ice cream pots in the palms of his hands.

"You didn't get yourself any?" Yoongi frowned, taking his share, watching as Jimin sat beside Jungkook, passing his to him.

"I just don't feel like it, hyung."

"But - "

"Let him do what he wants, hyung." Jungkook spoke softly, but with a sharpness which made Yoongi stop and stare. "He's doing whatever it takes him to survive."

There was a pause which hung in the air, Yoongi staring at Jimin, Jimin staring at Jungkook and it was like a love fest except perhaps there was no love there, just pure realisation and the gut feeling that things were changing so quickly that they were afraid to blink incase they missed something.

And then Jungkook's phone buzzed. Double buzzed.

It seemed to snap them all out of their trance, Yoongi inhaling deeply, Jimin scrunching his nose in confusion. Jungkook's face went pale.

Double buzz.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, setting his face to neutral, thankful when his fingers didn't shake, thankful that his breathing was steady and his body language remained almost unreadable.

He opened up the message, biting his lip.

That hyung : I want to see you, baby boy.

Jungkook closed his eyes, beginning to rock very slightly, a coping mechanism as he typed a reply.

You:. I'm with my hyungs … I can't.

A reply pinged almost immediately.

That hyung:. I'm sorry, kitten, but are you 

forgetting why you're doing this?

 

That hyung:. I think you should come to our 

usual place unless you want a   
repeat of last time.

 

Jungkook scraped back his chair as Jimin latched onto his hand, a frown between his eyebrows. 

"Where are you going, Kookie?"

"A hyung wants to meet up." He lied smoothly, his voice cpletely smooth, not giving a single word away. Lying came naturally to him now, almost like a second skin, every word he spoke was a lie, every breath he took held a little bit of underlaying untruth.

"Jungkook, no." Yoongi stepped forwards. "We're responsible for you right now. You can't go anywhere without us."

"Hyung, stop treating me like a baby." He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I'm not in littlespace. I can take care of myself perfectly fine."

"And if you slip?" Yoongi's voice was hostile. "Then what? It could happen at any time. You haven't been Little for a long time."

"Then." Jungkook's voice teetered on the cutting edge of spite. "My hyung can take care of me. He knows Tae - hyung. Knows about me." 

Jungkook tried to ignore the speck of pain that lit up within him when he said Taehyung's name so flippantly, carelessly. It was like reopening a wound that wasn't done healing.

"Jungkook - "

But Jungkook wasn't waiting for approval that he knew he wouldn't get. Time was ticking like a mastermind and he wrenched the door open before hurrying down to the main seating area and exiting the ice cream place, moving down the street, breaking into a sprint.

He was going to be so late. He would get in trouble.

Tears burned behind his eyelids as he checked the time. He had less than five minutes. Maybe he would make it.

Maybe not.

His phone vibrated and showed Jimin's caller ID and Jungkook declined the call, exasperated, running faster, his heartbeats thundering in his head, his breaths coming out in short gasps.

He was almost there. So close.

But he felt strange for a second, causing him to stop in mid movement, his mind reeling. His felt a dizziness which he couldn't explain and he leaned against the wall, trying to regain his stead.

He glanced at the time with blurred vision and felt a sinking feeling in his chest.

Oh, how late he was.

Oh, how he didn't care.

\-----------------

Taehyung grimaced as the IV was removed from his forearm, hissing very softly at the antiseptic applied to the tiny wound where a small burst of blood trickled down his paling skin and he stared in fascination. The lack of exposure seemed to have taken a toll on his physical appearance.

"All done pet?"

Taehyung whipped his head up, biting his lip, nodding obediantly.

"Yes Oppa."

"Then come here. Oppa needs to talk to you."

Taehyung felt a tiny swell of fear in his chest as he pushed himself to his feet and moved up the splintering wooden stairs to the room where he had heard the voice. He's only been up here a few times, and every time he was baught there, a shiver of anticipation always seemed to run through him. It was exhilarating.

He stood tentatively in the doorway for a second before he moved forwards facing the other man.

"Hey pet." His voice was low, sultry. It made Taehyung's heart flutter and he tried to conceal the blush which was sitting over his cheekbones. "Have you been good?"

Taehyung frowned. "Of course, Oppa. Very good. I haven't done anything wrong. Please don't hurt me."

Chanyeol chuckled again in that strange, seductive tone. "Come here pet. I want to talk to you about something serious."

Chanyeol tugged on Taehyung's sleeve, bringing him toward him and putting his arm around his waist, bringing him onto his lap, Tae's legs straddling his torso. He leaned forwards so that his lips brushed against Taehyung's ear, his breath tickling the nape of his neck.

"You're little Jungkook is getting the life fucked out of him today because of you, you dirty slut."

Jungkook.

Taehyung felt a breath hitch in his throat, his body tensing almost impulsively. His memory was beginning to become cloudy, fuzzy, an intangible past that he didn't like to dwell on. 

"So?" Tae huffed, crossing his arms. Chanyeol raised a slender eyebrow.

"You don't care?" He mused.

"Why should I?" He pouted, leaning forwards, eyes half lidded, his gaze seductive. "He can say no."

"In rape there isn't a no, pet." Chanyeol began testing the waters again as he often did, seeing how far he could go with this. "It's non consensual."

"But why should I care about him?" Taehyung whined. "I don't care, Oppa. I'm tired, my head feels fuzzy from the needles. I don't care what happens to him, and why should I?"

"He's your boyfriend."

Chanyeol felt Taehyung tense in his arms. 

Boyfriend.

Taehyung's fingers clenched into fists, grinding his teeth together as though to root himself to this moment at this time. He could almost see the run of images cascading through the other boys mind.

"I don't have a boyfriend."

Taehyung's voice was emotionless, robotic, mechanical, as though he was reading off a script; deadpanning, monotoned.

"You don't?"

"No Oppa. I belong to you."

Chanyeol felt satisfaction swell from within him. He licked his lips slightly, absently skimming a finger over the small of Tae's waist.

"So all this." Chanyeol let his hand travel down the curves of Taehyung's body, feeling a prick of amusement when he shivered under the touch. " - this is all mine?"

Taehyung inhaled sharply, feeling something strange twist inside him. He wasn't sure what it meant, nor how it made him feel, but it made him forget and he'd take that right now. "Yes Oppa."

Chanyeol raised an eyebrow, leaning forwards, his lips ghosting the younger boys as his hands danced over Tae's jeans zipper, a sly smile on his face. Taehyung shifted uncomfortably.

"What is it, baby?" Chanyeol bit back the smirk which threatened to splay over his face. He pretended that he didn't acknowledge Tae's already hardening dick, how his cheeks were tinged with red, how his heartbeat was fast, rapid. He let his fingers skim the front of his crotch teasingly, making Taehyung mewl in protest.

"Don't play Oppa." He begged.

Chanyeol laughed coldly. "Oh, pet. How can I not play, when you're just a toy? Look at you there all needy and desperate already, god, how fucking pure. I bet you could cum untouched. My little slut."

He groped at his dick shamelessly, making Taehyung groan, tipping his head back in frustration.

"Say it." Chanyeol licked his lips again. "Tell me how you're my little slut."

"I'm your slut." Tae said immediately, as Chanyeol took hold of his wrists, holding them back.

"No touching, pet." Chanyeol tutted. "You belong to me, so I can do whatever I want to do to you. You belong to me. You can't touch yourself. That's like touching what's mine. That means punishment."

Tae let out another low mewl of exasperation. "Oppa please!" He begged desperately.

"What do you want, baby?" Chanyeol said, acting oblivious.

"Touch me Oppa." Taehyung begged. "Please, touch me."

"But if I touch you, you will come so quickly, pet. There will be no fun." Chanyeol leaned back. "Shouldn't this be fun? Don't you want to have fun, baby?"

The look on Chanyeol's face spoke only dominance. It scared Taehyung very slightly. It excited him more.

Chanyeol moved Tae from his lap, moving towards the bedroom, ignoring his own erection. God, Kim Taehyung did things to him. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and hastened to pull it out, unlocking it, a frown sitting between his eyes.

Baekhyun: Where are you? Our interview is in an hour.

"Shit." Chanyeol closed his eyes, anger pooling behind his eyes. "Fuck, no!"

"Oppa?" He turned to see Taehyung stood in the doorway, a cute pout on his lips. "What's wrong?"

"I want to fuck you, that's what's wrong." Chanyeol spat bluntly, punching the bridge if his nose. Taehyung frowned.

"Then fuck me?" He bit his lip. "Or did something happen? You have to go don't you?" Taehyung looked down at his fingers, downcast. "You can leave if you need to. I can deal with this. It's fine."

Chanyeol felt guilt within him which was quickly replaced by his dominance. "Don't be stupid." He moved towards the younger boy, his fingers working at the zipper and belt of Tae's jeans. "I can't leave you to deal with this." He pressed a hard kiss to his mouth, licking Tae's bottom lip enticingly, deepening the kiss, his hands cradling the back of his neck.

"But after I come back." Chanyeol pulled down Tae's jeans. "I'm going to finish what I started."

Maybe it was trauma or PTSD, maybe it was that he simply hit his head too hard. Whatever it was, how ironic that Kim Taehyung didn't recognise the man infront of him to be world famous K-pop group, "EXO"'s member, Park Chanyeol.

\---------------------

Jungkook woke with a small groan, squinting.  
Had he passed out? What had happened?

"You finally decide to wake up, you fucking faggot?"

Jungkook took a small intake of breath.

"You're one lucky shit that I didn't fuck you while you were out." He felt a rough hand on his shoulder, pulling him to his feet, he was met with eyes which burned like the devil's, the forensic insane smile on the man's twisted lips causing Jungkook's stomach to lurch in fear.

"But I wanted you to feel it. I want you to know why I'm doing this. I want to offer you a deal." He stressed the last word of his sentences as though he was speaking to a child, and the very thought made a small smile of ridicule play on Jungkook's lips. He wasn't a child anymore.

He wasn't?

"Do you want to hear the deal baby boy?" 

Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, nodded slightly. The man released him very slightly.

"I will let you go this time." He offered. "But in return, I will torture your Taehyung."

Jungkook's eyes widened. He felt as if time had slowed down in that very moment, he felt as though the world was balancing on his shoulders like some Greek myth, it was weighing him down, he was tripping over his feet, cascading into the sea, drowning. 

He was strong, but he was a child. Take the weight of the world off his shoulders. He shouldn't have to fight to save himself.

"I … " He swallowed hard. "Tae hyung. He … he send you?"

"He did." The man's eyes glinted. "And revenge is such a beautiful thing. Even more beautiful when the one recieving is deserving."

He wanted to be cold and hard and cruel, he wanted to be able to bare his teeth and stand up straight, his eyes icy, he wanted people to cower in their steps when he looked at them, he wanted to be able to take authority, say yes to hurting Taehyung, he deserved it right?

But no, deep down he was still the same person. Just because he painted over the boy he used to be didn't mean he was gone - he was still there, and now the paint was wearing thin, the boy he used to be was showing through the cracks.

"Don't hurt him." His voiced trembled, small, pure. He was too good, for a world that didn't deserve him. "Please. I'll do anything. Don't … don't touch him."

"Are you sure?" The man said. "Because that was only part of the deal."

"Part?" Jungkook's nose scrunched up cutely in confusion. "But - "

"I only want to fuck you." He interrupted, a smirk on his lips, trailing a finger down Jungkook's arm. "When you're in littlespace."

Oh god, who was this man, why had Taehyung sent him? Was he here just to strip him of everything he held onto, of everything which rooted him to the ground, which made him feel safe? 

Fucking hell, Jungkook should have destroyed even the most vulnerable parts of him because it seemed that the people whom he had given the most hidden parts of him had exploited it to the world. 

And yet, he looked up at the man, who still held onto him, his eyes staring at him, already anticipating his answer with a sneer of satisfaction.

"Of course." He whispered. "Whatever you want."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you want more detail of Jungkook's rape next chapter?
> 
> And do you want to read a Chanyeol/ Taehyung smut scene or no?
> 
> God, how am I even making Chanyeol so evil he's a legitimate ray of sunshine( >~<)
> 
> Feel free to leave feedback <333
> 
> army hwaiting~


	7. Three Hours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a mess omf.  
> Ok so, I know most ppl wanted me to write smut etc but my mind lighbulbed and I had an idea so like... Yea.
> 
> This is set a week or so after the last chapter and...... Yep
> 
> This chapter is for AIN ZE or SEHLAB idek what u go by but yeah <3

Chanyeol briefly glanced at his watch and muttered an urge to be quick to himself under his breath as he quickened his pace, striding towards the SM building. He double checked the text in his phone to ensure that he got everything right about the meeting, about who would escort him, he triple checked. He always had been particular about things like this.

As he approached the doors he saw a fair head of a male much shorter than him, and a wide smile touched his lips.

"Baekhyun-ah!" He exclaimed, eyes sparkling as he moved forwards with a new found urge. The male turned his head and took off the sunglasses which had concealed most of his face. As he reached the door he embraced the smaller man tightly, exhaling hard.

"I'm sorry. I'm late."

There was a tiny sound of laughter as gentle hands caressed his back and drew away, raising an eyebrow.

"Since when do you apologise?"

Chanyeol frowned, a tiny crease between his brows.

"Since when have I had a reason to apologise?"

Baekhyun scrunched his nose up before rolling his eyes, grabbing his sleeve and dragging him inside.

"Whatever. Now we're super late."

As he dragged him through the doors, Chanyeol pressed a soft kiss against the nape of his neck.

"I love you." He whispered, even though, after all he's done, those words mean something different now. He said it, even though it hurts him, because Baekhyun is the one person in the whole world whom he would even commit murder for, if it was necessary.

_-_-_

He rocked back and forth, quickly, systematically, there was blood on his shaking fingers that wasn't there yesterday as he chokes on the tears which steadily wet his face, he can not look back.

"Again." He whispers, his voice trembled as he put down another bloody finger, gritting his teeth together, eyes widening, flashing with pure fury. "I did it again!" He screamed, and his voice echoed off the cold walls and comes back to him, unscathed.

His fingers twitch, a shiver runs through his body. He can not take back what he has done.

"Again." His sobs were loud, painful, they went right through him as he moved erratically. "Fucking hell, why? What's wrong with me?!" He wailed, tearing at his hair, dragging his nails on the skin of his face. He heard a noise from above him and almost instantaneously he became silent, curling in on himself.

"Shut the fuck up did you?" A voice sneered from the top of the stairs. "Could hear you from across the street you bitch." A pause. "No greetings? How fucking _rude_."

He heard brisk footsteps and a hand closed around the back of his throat, squeezing tightly.

"You're not looking too good, Taehyungie." A face came into view, a look of sarcasm and fake concern etched upon the handsome features. "You've only got two days without your medicine. Already facing withdrawal symptoms?"

He tutted, moving back and letting go, turning his back on Taehyung, head tilted.

"You're a monster." Taehyung choked. "A fu…fucking monster. That's right. P…park Chanyeol. Monster." He giggled weakly, staring at the blood on his hands. "S...see? My hands… they're so d…dirty." He giggled again, blood on the corner of his lip as Chanyeol turned to look at him with a smirk.

"You're the fucking monster you bastard." He said, calm. "I didn't kill him."

And that one phrase is what made Taehyung shatter once again, his tears were horrific as he wailed in utter distortion, the pain put a finger on him, whispered "I have come for you" and he turned away in terror "you are too blinding, I don't want to look." 

It took time, but once he quietened the man watching him came too close to be just acquaintances and said in the lowest voice, "do not cry, you are allowed out today. For three hours today you are allowed out while I have visitors."

And to that he cried harder because freedom was so close but he was too weak to reach out and take it.

_-_-_

"Three hours." 

The words were reiterated, loudly, clearly, branded into his mind. Three hours. If he was not back then he was dead. He knew.

"Six men." Chanyeol's voice was smooth, it didn't reveal a thing. "If you see them, come straight back, no matter what. If you see them, if they talk to you, do not believe them. They are liars, they are trying to manipulate you." Pause.

"If you see any one of them, kill them."

Chanyeol placed pictures on the table, at the back of his mind somewhere the people in the pictures seemed familiar but he couldn't seem to pin it down.

"They are dangerous. They're trying to hurt you."

Taehyung nodded obediently.

"And lastly." Chanyeol's eyes flashed. "My visitor is extremely important. I do not want him seeing you. Okay?"

"Yes sir."

Chanyeol smirked. "Good dog."

_-_-_

He tried to tell them how sick he was by doing little things like not looking when crossing, one too many pills and pushing them all away and they all said to him "Goddamnit you are so fucking selfish." And he knew he was, sorry, he was sorry, he would leave them alone now; he just wanted somebody to notice. Somebody to know.

He was walking through the city centre when he saw him, and truthfully he almost missed him.

He did not look as he had.

His hair was darker than the blonde it had been, almost grey, swept back, yet falling into his eyes, his face was pale, stripped of all colour, porcelain, unreal. His whole body was wrong, the boy he knew was not so tiny, so skeletal, the boy he knew was not all skin and bones, the boy he knew did not hold himself like he had everything whilst looking like he had nothing. 

Even the way he was stood was wrong, powerful, strong despite his appearance. He had an aura of unapproachableness which made people turn back to look at him, but if he was recognised, no one indicated it. The boy he knew was soft, gentle.

When he smiled it was toothy and fake and when he laughed it was a cacophony of metallic, hollow sounds reverberated through his whole body, it chilled his bones, he knew this was not the boy he used to know.

He was about to leave when the boy turned to look right at him, and those eyes, they were not right, no they were not, he did not know the boy who was staring at him, who was moving towards him, he didn't like this at all, he very much wanted to run away and not look back.

"Hello." The boys voice was smooth, soft, accentless. He did not know this voice.

"Hello." He whispered back with a tiny voice. "How are you?" 

Something flickered behind those emotionless eyes but he only smiled. "Good. And you?"

He shrugged, taking a deep breath. Had he not recognised him? It seemed no.

"I'm Taehyung." The boy said. "V."

"Jungkook." Jungkook managed. Tae smiled pleasantly.

"A pretty name to match a pretty face." Jungkook laughed weakly.

"I really miss you hyung." He said, trying to keep his voice even.

Taehyung's face twisted, confused. "What…?"

"Come back with me, hyung. Please. Everyone will be so happy. Come back. I need you. I need you."

He reached towards him, but it was as aimless as trying to catch water between you fingers because Taehyung simply moved back, the expression on his face was slowly becoming exceedingly distressed.

"Who are you?" He whispered. "Don't come close to me. I'm dangerous."

"Hyung." Jungkook pleaded. "Don't you remember? Don't you remember, BTS, your family? _Me_?"

And then recognition dawned upon his face and he moved back in horror as though Jungkook's touch was poison.

"Stop it." He stared. "Get away. You're trying to kill me aren't you?"

"No I -"

"Go away." Taehyung said in a low voice. "He wants you gone. He wants you dead. Run away, you aren't safe here."

Jungkook stared in utter disbelief, he didn't recognise the boy who was talking to him.

"You're a monster." He said incredously. "Who are you?"

To what Taehyung almost sneered as he stared at his fingers. "I've done terrible things." He whispered. "This blood on my fingers isn't mine. I've done disgusting things to survive. I'm a monster. I've been told to kill you." He turned around and then, without another word he broke into a desperate run.

Anything to survive.

The run to the house was short and Jungkook was right behind him, oh god he couldn't breathe, please this wasn't happening to him, this wasn't fair.

He reached the door, breathing hard, staring up at the house, conflicted.

"Hyung!" Jungkook caught up with him, tears in his eyes. "Come home! I beg you please." He began sobbing. "I love you. I love you. They told me they hurt me because you told them to but I don't care. I can't live like this anymore I think I'm going crazy."

He moved forwards and this time Taehyung stood still frozen. The street was empty, there was no one to help him.

Jungkook reached out and placed a gentle hand on the side of his face, caressing it softly, tracing the shape of his face, eyes staring into his and Taehyung remembered this and he found himself falling in love all over again.

"Jungkookie." Taehyung whispered, moving closer, their bodies colliding like starving animals, they gave light to each other, they were each others saviour and if he didn't remember anything else, he remembered this, he remembered the boy he held in his arms.

"My baby." There were tears on his face. "I'm sorry. I love you." And they stared at each other steadily, there was nothing that they wanted to say to each other that they could say in words so Taehyung moved forwards, his lips touching Jungkook's softly, like he was the dearest thing in the world to him, it was sweet, it was beautifully painful.

Jungkook tasted like maturity, he tasted like hurt, like pure terror, he tasted like strawberries and bubblegum and something distinctly unique. 

Taehyung tasted cold, like harshness, brutality, he tasted like blood and sweat, he tasted like spices and cinnamon and closure. It was perfect, they were both hurting so much but it that moment everything was flawless.

And then it was not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pleaseeeee show your support if u enjoyed please read my latest story etc etc, just so you know, you are beautiful and amazing and awesome and I purple u <3
> 
>  
> 
> (It's also 3:30am sue me)

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is appreciated! Army, hwaiting~!  
> (Sorry for making Chanyeol evil :/)


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